


Anomaly

by Spiffing



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Gen, Good Dudley Dursley, Magical Dudley Dursley, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:40:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 27,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25066324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spiffing/pseuds/Spiffing
Summary: "Was this what it felt like? To finally have someone looking out for him and caring about him? Harry liked it. He just hoped it wasn’t temporary."Dudley had never shown signs of magic until that day. Something about him was very different.
Relationships: Dudley Dursley & Harry Potter
Comments: 43
Kudos: 156





	1. Changes

It was after lunch when they went to The Reptile House. Dudley and Piers rushed around the place, or at least tried to, looked at all sorts of lizards and snakes behind the glass, and pointed out loudly at the most poisonous and mean looking snakes. Dudley was quick to find the largest snake of all the exhibits. However, when Dudley plastered himself to the glass, the snake paid Dudley no mind, apparently fast asleep.

Harry rolled his eyes as he had watched Uncle Vernon try to wake the snake on Dudley's request. It was futile. The snake barely moved. The Dursleys and Piers moved on. Harry had stopped to take a closer look at the snake himself however, empathised with the snake out loud, of how much pestering the snake must have received, of how lonely it must be.

Then, as if it could hear Harry’s quiet spoken thoughts, the snake opened its eyes, lifted its head and _winked_.

The most bizarre thing happened then. Harry was having a _conversation_ with this snake. Harry talked while the snake responded. It was surreal. And Harry couldn’t help but smile in bitter sweetness. He couldn’t think of the last time he had an actual conversation, and the fact that it was with a snake made Harry feel sad.

Unfortunately, Piers had taken notice to the snake's movement, alerted Dudley and Uncle Vernon, and Dudley came rushing back.

What happened after confused Harry more than anything before.

Each and every person Dudley pushed out of his way, they flew across the room. And as soon as Dudley shoved Harry to one side, Harry flew across the room as well and fell to the floor. A commotion broke out, with many eyes fallen at Dudley - fearful, outraged and confused.

Sore and disorientated, it had taken a minute or two for Harry to get his bearings before he realised that Aunt Petunia loomed over him. She gave him a look which slowly transferred to Dudley. There was anger and puzzlement but mostly there was fear. Uncle Vernon looked much the same. He stared at his son who stared back at his parents, his mouth slightly agape, while they ignored Piers who nervously marvelled over Dudley's apparent strength.

After Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia talked at length on what to do, it was decided that they were to keep Harry and Dudley out from each other's proximity.

 _Which means no more Harry Hunting!_ Harry had thought happily.

But when have the Dursleys ever been fair to Harry?

Everything seemed to carry on as normal, except quieter. But Harry knew once they are home, something drastic was going to happen.

And he wasn't wrong.

As soon as Piers left, Uncle Vernon turned on Harry. His face was red, fuming.

"Go to your cupboard. You are not to come out unless your aunt or I say. You’ll be having no meals for a week. Understood?"

Harry’s jaw dropped.

"A week? But I didn't do anything wrong!" Harry cried out, feeling injustice at being punished for something Dudley has done, yet again.

Uncle Vernon was having none of it. He pointed angrily towards where the cupboard was and took a threatening step closer.

"NOW!" he yelled.

After that, as Harry laid in his cupboard, there were sounds of machinery being used upstairs, one of Uncle Vernon's electric hand tools. Why was Uncle Vernon doing house maintenance on a Saturday evening?

Hours later, following dinner time, a piercing yell of outrage laced with fear cut through the air, causing the whole house to shake. Harry sat up in his bed, eyes wide in alarm.

Then, yelling:

"NO! STOP! PUT ME DOWN! LET GO OF ME!”

Harry cringed. Sounds of struggling on the stairs. He could hear Aunt Petunia softly crying in the hallway. Then, a door slammed closed and locks were engaged. Harry could hear the yelling continue but muffled, and a couple of thumps with slight rattling.

Slow, heavy footsteps descended the stairs.

A teary whisper. “Vernon.”

“Everything will be alright, my dear. It worked for Harry. It’ll work for Dudley too.”

Harry sat in bewildered disbelief, wondering what on earth that was all about.

Later on in the evening, under the watchful eye of his aunt, Harry was let out for five minutes to wash up and use the loo. He walked past Dudley’s door and saw the deadbolt and key lockable lock on it. There was no thumping anymore, no yelling. It was dead silence from beyond the door.

Harry glanced at Aunt Petunia to see that she was upset but tried to hide it. She nudged Harry with her finger and told him to hurry up.

It was incredible. Unbelievable. Surreal. This was the first time Harry has witness Dudley being punished and being ignored by his parents.

Now as Harry thought about it, going over the day’s events again, he wasn't sure whether to feel sorry or glad. On one hand, Dudley was finally being punished how Harry has been punished all these years. On the other hand, he knew what it was like to be locked up for something he couldn’t explain.

Seeing the change with Dudley, from being treated like a prince, to being locked in his room and denied - all in the span of twelve hours! It made Harry wonder if Dudley is a freak like him and has been one all along. If he is, and Harry is sure Dudley is because there is no way that Harry is _that_ light and Dudley is _that_ strong, then that means Harry isn't alone anymore. Maybe there are more freaks just like them outside in the real world. And that made Harry wonder, and wonder, and hope, and dream.

By the time Harry was allowed out of his cupboard, the summer holidays was in full swing. Dudley was still grounded. With Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia's careful monitoring and management, Harry hasn't seen Dudley for nearly a month.

Dudley's gang, who use to play Harry Hunting with Dudley, came to Number Four a few times asking after Dudley only to be told they were no longer Dudley's friends. After a while, they'd stopped visiting. Harry Hunting was over. Harry rejoiced.

One evening, as Harry helped cook dinner, Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon talked about whether they should send Dudley to Smeltings Academy after all. It was Uncle Vernon's alma mater, something to be proud of apparently, and they hadn't thought of Dudley going to any other school at all. But now, being afraid that Dudley might do something impossible and unexplainable, they worried that by sending Dudley there, he would put a stain on Uncle Vernon's reputation.

"Aunt Petunia? Do I start on a third steak?"

Aunt Petunia gave Harry a piercing look, annoyed at being interrupted mid-sentence of her discussing home schooling, then looked at the first two steaks that were already cooked and currently resting.

"No, that will do, Harry. Eat your eggs and wash up," she snapped.

Harry did so without another comment, once again finding himself wondering when the last time Dudley had eaten. Harry knew what it was like to go without food for more than a week. He couldn’t imagine Dudley surviving such a treatment, especially since it was his parents who over fed him in the first place.

It wouldn't be until another week before Dudley was allowed out of his room for more than the mere ‘five minutes, twice a day’ enforcement. Harry was shocked when he saw just how much of Dudley was left. His clothes didn’t fit him, almost hanging off his body. He'd lost considerable amount of weight, his skin was without colour, and when Dudley joined his parents at the table for the first time since his birthday, Dudley was only given vegetables to eat… which confused Harry because he thought for sure Dudley would be allowed at least some eggs as Harry was.

Harry watched this hushed version of his cousin slowly take in, chew and swallow his plain peas and mash. Harry couldn’t help feeling sorry for his cousin, even though he had given Harry a rough time up from the moment Harry entered their lives, right up to Dudley’s birthday. There was almost no noise. The silence was heavy and uncomfortable.

Until Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon realised they had allowed Dudley and Harry in the same room. Aunt Petunia sent Harry to his cupboard immediately.

One day in July, Harry woke to a horrible smell. When he went to investigate, it lead him to the kitchen where he discovered a large metal tub in the sink containing what looked to be dirty rags soaked in grey water. Harry peered in and wrinkled his nose.

“What’s this?” Harry asked.

Aunt Petunia was not pleased with his question. Or for simply asking a question, yet again.

“Your new school uniform.”

“Oh. I didn’t realise it has to be so wet.”

“Don’t be stupid. I’m dying some of Dudley’s old things grey for you. It’ll look just like everyone else’s when I’ve finished. ”

Harry doubted that would be the case. He could imagine himself heading into Stonewall High for the very first time looking as though he was wearing bits of old elephant skin or something.

He saw Dudley was already at the table. Dudley seemed to make a habit of waking up early in the morning these days. Their eyes met for a second. Then Dudley frowned before sticking his face behind a copy of _1984_ by George Orwell he was apparently reading. Harry sat down and slowly ate his toast.

“With both of us going to Stonewall, why does Harry have to wear hand me downs and I don’t?”

Harry stared at Dudley as though he had grown another head.

Dudley? Standing up for Harry?

He looked up to see Aunt Petunia’s lips tighten in disapproval.

“Don’t ask questions,” Aunt Petunia snapped, attention back on the bacon crisping in the pan.

Harry blinked before turning to Dudley.

“You’re going to Stonewall too?”

“Yes.”

What happened to Smeltings? Home schooling? Harry’s heart sank. He had been hoping to go to a new school where nobody knew of Dudley, and Harry could finally have some friends. Dudley has left him alone so far. But will he leave him alone at school? Even though Dudley has lost a lot of weight, he was still bigger and taller than Harry, and could easy push him around.

“Where did you get that book?” Harry asked, trying to be friendly.

“The library,” said Dudley, not looking up from the pages.

Aunt Petunia was suddenly by the table looking down at them with a hand outstretched towards Dudley.

“Give that to me.”

“I’m still reading.”

Uncle Vernon entered the kitchen at that moment, took in the situation in front of him and snatched the book off of Dudley’s hands.

“Listen to your mother, son.”

When Aunt Petuina and Uncle Vernon joined the table and urged Dudley to eat, he refused. Harry stared at Dudley, puzzled with his lack of whinging. The look on Dudley’s face was scary too. It was blank with no emotions at all. Harry would have thought Dudley’d at least be sulking. There was bacon, scramble eggs, and toast, and Dudley was finally allowed to eat such things again, yet he did not want to. Even Harry was finally allowed to eat nice things and tucked in before his current good fortune ran out. It made no sense. Was Dudley still upset with how his parents had treated him? Dudley was acting strange and different and it made Harry feel uneasy. He could see it made his parents feel uneasy too.

With a grunt, Uncle Vernon eventually got up. He grabbed the book off from the shelf he had placed it on and gave it back to Dudley. Dudley accepted it with a nod and went back to reading. Aunt Petunia sighed in defeat and Uncle Vernon pretended today was just another day, opening up his newspaper and hiding from view.

And then Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon belatedly realised, once again, that Harry and Dudley were in the same room as each other.

“Go to your cupb---.”

Dudley snapped his book shut and stood up from the table. He tucked his book under his arm and looked above his parents’ heads.

“I’m going out for a walk.”

He left the room without another word. The front door opened and then closed gently shortly afterwards.

Harry ate another toast and quickly drank the remainder of his juice. He wanted to go out for a walk too.

But then, the click of the mail slot and the flop of letters on the doormat were heard.

“Get the mail, Harry.”

Harry held in his sigh.

“Yes, Uncle Vernon.”

Four things were on the doormat: a post card from Aunt Marge, a brown envelope that looked like a bill and two similarly thick looking envelopes. One was for Dudley and the other – Harry’s eyes widened as he read over the words on the front facing again.

_Mr. H. Potter_

_The Cupboard under the Stairs_

_4 Privet Drive_

_Little Whinging_

_Surrey_

A letter for Harry! Harry never gets letters.

The envelope was thick and heavy, made of strange yellowed paper and the address was written in green ink. No stamp, so it must have been hand delivered. There was a purple wax seal to it too to the back with a coat of arms of a lion, an eagle, a badger and a snake around a large “H”. It looked ancient. It looked official. It felt _real_.

“Hurry up, boy!” Uncle Vernon boomed. “What are you doing? Checking for letter bombs?”

Harry returned to the kitchen. He handed over the bill, Dudley’s letter and the letter from Aunt Marge to his uncle, while Harry’s attention was focused on his own letter, breaking the seal as he sat back down.

“ _NO_!”

Harry flinched, his eyes darting up to see Uncle Vernon staring at Dudley’s letter he had opened up. Aunt Petunia was at her husband’s shoulder in an instant, looking over to see what made him shout. She turned pale as a ghost and looked about to faint. Uncle Vernon’s eyes snapped to Harry. Upon seeing Harry holding a similar looking envelope Uncle Vernon reached over and snatched it out of Harry’s grasp.

Harry jumped out of his chair.

“That’s _mine_!” Harry shouted.

“I don’t care. You are not going!”

Harry didn’t understand, glaring at his uncle angrily.

“Not going _where_?”

“Get out,” Aunt Petunia demanded, pointing towards the exit.

“I want to read my letter!”

Uncle Vernon grabbed Harry by the scruff of his neck and threw him out into the hallway, slamming the door shut. Harry quickly moved to the door, pressing his ear to the key hole to listen to what they were going to say that was so important and urgent.

“Look at the address. How could they possibly know where they sleep? You don’t think they’re watching the house?”

“Watching. Spying. Might be watching us now.”

“What should we do, Vernon? Should we write back? Tell them we don’t want---?”

“No. No, we’ll ignore it. If they don’t get an answer… Yes, that’s the best. We won’t do anything.”

“Vernon---.”

“We’d sworn we’d stamp out all that dangerous nonsense when we took him in. It’s not enough they burden us with Harry but now they want Dudley too! I won’t have it, Petunia. I won’t!”

Harry wanted to read his letter. For his uncle and aunt to react the way they did, it must be something important and unusual.

Later that evening, when Uncle Vernon came back from work, he came and visited Harry in his cupboard. It was something he’d never done before and immediately Harry linked it to the letter.

“Where’s my letter? Who’s writing to me?”

“No one. It was addressed to you by mistake. I have burnt it.”

“It was _not_ a mistake. It had my cupboard on it.”

“SILENCE!”

The cupboard surrounds shook. A couple of spiders fell from the ceiling. Uncle Vernon, after a deep breath forced his face into a smile.

“Er. Yes, Harry. About this cupboard. Your aunt and I have been thinking… you’re really getting a bit big for it… we think it’ll be nice if you moved into Dudley’s second bedroom.”

“Why?”

“Don’t ask questions!” Uncle Vernon snapped. He looked around the cupboard. “And take this stuff upstairs. Now.”

And then Uncle Vernon was gone. Sounds of machinery was heard from upstairs. Harry sighed. It took only one trip upstairs to move everything he owned to Dudley’s second bedroom. Uncle Vernon was putting on locks and bolts to the door and frame while Dudley was inside, tidying the room up and removing broken toys, moving with purpose and not wasting time. Harry had hoped Dudley would be bawling or refusing to clean up his second bedroom for Harry’s stay, but he didn’t. He remained quiet and gave Harry merely a cursory glance. Harry wondered if Dudley knew there was a letter like Harry’s for him too. Probably not.

The next day, breakfast was a quiet affair yet again. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia kept sending each other dark looks. Dudley indulged his parents by eating a slice of toast. Harry ate his food slowly, thinking about this time yesterday, and wishing he had opened his letter in the hall.

They heard the mail arrive. Uncle Vernon made Dudley get it this time. Dudley went without complaint. He came back with a bunch of advertisement catalogues. He placed them on the counter before announcing he was going out for a walk and left.

Aunt Petunia looked teary as soon as Dudley left. Uncle Vernon looked just as sad.

“Vernon. Did we make a mistake?”

Uncle Vernon took Aunt Petunia’s hand, giving it a squeeze.

“He’s grown up mature, that’s all. Our boy is all grown up, nothing more.”

Aunt Petunia shook her head, pulled her hand away and left the room. Leaving Uncle Vernon and Harry alone. Uncle Vernon went back to his newspaper.

“My letter---”

“ _Not_ another _word_ of it,” Uncle Vernon warned.

He opened up his newspaper and disappeared behind it.

“I’m going out for a walk too,” Harry announced.

Uncle Vernon eyed Harry before turning his attention back to his newspaper.

“Be back before five.”

“Yes, Uncle Vernon.”

There was no particular place to walk to. He saw a deserted looking park down the road and went there. There was play equipment in this park. Harry went for the swings. He kicked off swinging as he had seen other children do and laughed as the wind blew against him. He wanted to go higher, so he doubled his efforts. It felt great. He felt like he was flying.

His enjoyment was short lived however when Piers, Dennis, Malcolm and Gordon appeared at the edge of the swing set area. Harry stopped pushing and allowed the swing to gradually calm.

“Harry!” Piers barked. “What do you think you’re doing here? This is _our_ territory!”

“Your territory? Says who?”

“Says _us_. Now bugger off before we knock your glasses off.”

“No.”

“Hold him down!”

In a flash, Dennis, Malcolm and Gordon shoved Harry off the swing and held him down in the sand. His glasses were knocked off and out of nowhere came a fist, smashing into Harry’s face. A burst of pain, Harry cried out. He could feel blood and he couldn’t see properly. Piers loomed over Harry with a smile on his face and his hand closed into a fist. But then, a voice cut through the tension.

“Leave him alone.”

Everything paused. Piers’ smile fell off his face. All the four boys turned to look at the person with the steady and serious voice. Harry couldn’t see. He was still held down, stuck staring up at the sky.

“Dudley? Is that you? What happened?” Piers asked, concerned.

“I will not repeat myself,” Dudley warned.

“What’s with the dad voice?” Malcolm laughed.

“I’ll count to three. By three, you should all be out of my sight or you boys will regret it.”

All four boys looked uncertain.

“You’re just playing, aren’t you?” Dennis said uneasily.

“One.”

“Come on, Dudley. It’s us. Your friends,” Piers said, confused.

A pause. Piers looked hopeful.

“Two.”

Their faces fell.

“Dudley, it’s just _Harry_ ,” Piers stressed.

“He is family. You do not mess with my family.”

“But---.”

“ _Three_.”

Suddenly, Piers, Malcolm, Dennis and Gordon ran, screaming. Harry stood up quickly and turned to Dudley to see what made his old friends run. But all he saw was Dudley with his arms folded, looking smug.

“What did you do?” Harry spurted, confused.

Dudley turned to Harry and raised an eyebrow.

“They’re gone, are they not?”

Harry didn’t know what to say. He looked at Dudley, apprehensively. Dudley took a few strides towards him, Harry took a few steps back. Dudley stopped, having taken a handkerchief out of his pocket, holding it in mid-air.

“You’re bleeding,” Dudley stated.

“No thanks to your friends,” Harry muttered.

“They’re not my friends. I’m sorry, Harry.”

Harry blinked owlishly at Dudley. Dudley, his movements deliberate and steady, leaned down and picked his glasses up. He wiped them with the handkerchief and held it out to Harry. Harry took them hesitantly and shoved them back on his face. He looked at Dudley, unsure and a little... hopeful?

“Did you mean what you said? About me… being family?”

“Yes.”

Harry frowned.

“I don’t understand.”

Dudley didn’t respond. He held out the handkerchief to Harry as well and Harry slowly accepted it, placing it to his nose.

“Dudley?”

Dudley looked away. But Harry wanted answers. After all the years he had treated Harry like mud under his shoes. It doesn’t just get dismissed and forgotten quickly. Harry deserved to know. Did the weeks of isolation without food and little water make Dudley realise and understand what Harry had to deal with at home?

“Why would you say---?”

“I had time to think during my isolation. At one point, I realised how unfair it was to you, the way we’d mistreated you for all these years.”

Dudley finally met Harry’s eyes. The way Dudley looked at him was intense and Harry had to look away.

“I don’t expect you to forgive me and my apology may not mean much but… I’m sorry, Harry. I’m sorry for all the hurt I’d caused you.”

Harry stared at the dirt at his feet. His lips trembled, his vision blurred. He wanted to be angry still, wanted to throw at Dudley everything that Dudley had thrown at him.

“It’s fine,” Harry croaked out.

“No, Harry. It’s not fine. I never thought what I was doing was wrong. Mum and dad, watching how they had treated you and always encouraging me, never telling me off for hurting you... I don’t want to hurt you anymore, Harry. I want to make it up to you.”

“Dudley, I... You don’t---.”

“Let me make it up to you.”

“No, it’s fine! Honestly! You... You’ve been pretty decent recently. So. Um. Keep that up.”

Dudley looked like he didn’t want to drop the subject, but instead of replying he reached into his pocket and pulled out two envelopes. One was already opened and the other one, unopened, had Harry’s name on the front. Harry’s eyes widened. It was the same looking envelopes with the green writing from yesterday!

“These came through the mail slot this morning. This one’s for you.”

Harry accepted his mail without another word. On the front, it said:

_Mr. H. Potter_

_The Smallest Bedroom_

_4 Privet Drive_

_Little Whinging_

_Surrey_

Harry looked at Dudley, wondering how he knew not to give the letters to his dad, before sitting back down on his swing and opening up his letter, bloody handkerchief briefly forgotten. Dudley sat down on the other swing, watching Harry as he silently read his letter. Harry read his over and over again, excitement and wonder bubbling within him, questions bursting to be asked, possibilities swirling inside his head.

“Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry,” Harry mused. “So… magic _is_ real.”

Dudley hummed, looking over his own pieces of parchment half-heartedly.

“These came in the mail yesterday,” Harry revealed to Dudley. “Your parents acted as though it was something really serious but dangerous.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised. They panic over anything they can’t explain.”

But Harry grinned, reading the letter again, his fingers tracing the Hogwarts crest. Then he paused, frowning.

“What do you think they mean? That they’ll await my owl?”

“Perhaps they use owls to deliver mail. It would explain the lack of post stamps.”

“But we don’t have an owl to post back.”

“Someone from the school will come to visit us.”

“How do you know that?” Harry asked quickly.

“It’s what my letter says. Have a look.”

Harry did look. Everything was the same except instead of ‘Dear Mr. Potter’ and ‘awaiting your owl’, it was ‘Dear Mr. Dursley’ and ‘a representative of the school will visit to answer any questions you may have this coming Saturday’.

Saturday arrived. Harry’s nose still hurt but the swelling has gone down. Dudley didn’t go for a walk after breakfast as he would have usually had done. Instead, he went to the lounge room and watched the replay of the Wimbledon final on the television. Harry joined him despite them having no interest in tennis. There wasn’t much to talk about with Dudley other than what Hogwarts would be like, and the possibility of magic. They didn’t share many interests if any at all. Harry was nervous as well as worried whether he would be allowed to go to Hogwarts. He wondered if Dudley worried too, since his parents didn’t seem too thrilled with the letters.

A knock on the door came at eleven on the dot. Uncle Vernon was drawing up plans in his study and Aunt Petunia was in the backyard tending to the garden.

“Dudley! Answer the door for mummy!”

Dudley went to open the door. Some murmuring. Then the door closed. Harry watched as a man with long black robe, oily shoulder length hair, and large hook nose _glided_ into their small hallway. Dudley indicated the man to the living room where Harry was. The man turned, and as soon as his eyes landed on Harry, the man gave Harry an unimpressed look. Harry froze, a little taken back and unsure. Did all wizards look scary and gloomy?

“Harry. This is Professor Snape, from Hogwarts School.”

Harry tried on a smile. “Hello, Professor Snape.”

The professor was curt. No smiles. “Mr Potter.”

And then there was a scream.

“Hello, Petunia. Always a pleasure,” Professor Snape drawled.

Aunt Petunia was fully _marching_ but stopped mid-way when she saw the guest. Harry saw shock on her face, before her eyes narrowed on the professor, nostrils flaring.

“ _Snape_. What are you doing here?” she hissed, distaste from her lips.

Harry looked back and forth between the professor and Aunt Petunia. Did they know each other?

“Your nephew is a wizard, as I am sure you’re well aware,” Professor Snape said. He tilted his head curiously. “Your son too, as it so happens.”

Uncle Vernon stomped into the room, having had left his study to see what the commotion was about. He looked ready to burst at the words he heard.

“My son is not a freak! You are _mistaken_!” he snarled.

Professor Snape turned to regard Uncle Vernon coolly.

“The Book of Admittance is never wrong. It would not even bother including your son if he hadn’t shown any magic.”

Aunt Petunia’s lips trembled, jaw clenched. The professor turned back to her.

“How does it feel to have your own flesh and blood, a wizard, just as Lily was a witch? Will you shun him from your life too? Will you denounce him as your son?”

“How _dare_ you. He is not going with _your_ kind!” Aunt Petunia turned to Dudley, her smile strained. “Are you, dear?”

“I would like to learn magic. Very much,” Dudley replied.

“I want to learn magic too!” Harry quickly said.

“We won’t allow it!” Uncle Vernon snarled.

“I don’t see how Muggles like yourselves could stop them from going,” Professor Snape sneered.

“Muggles?” Harry asked, curious.

“Non-magical persons,” the professor snapped. “Any _other_ questions?”

“I-I’m a wizard? So was my mum? My dad too?”

Professor Snape gave an insufferable sigh.

“ _Yes_ , Potter. Were you told _nothing_?”

“All I know is that they died in a car crash,” Harry mumbled.

Professor Snape pinched the bridge of his nose. Harry had a feeling Professor Snape didn’t like Harry even before they’d met. The question was why?

Suddenly Aunt Petunia went straight to Dudley and embraced him tightly.

“Dudleykins… Stay with mummy,” Aunt Petunia whispered, earnest.

Dudley pulled himself out from her arms. But then Uncle Vernon made grab at Dudley’s arm but Dudley jumped back. Uncle Vernon made one attempt after another, and Dudley avoided each time, leaving Uncle Vernon red faced and out of breath.

“I am your father and you are my son. I am not letting some crackpot old fool teach you magic tricks. You are going to Smeltings and that is THAT!”

Harry shook his head, looking to his uncle and aunt, feeling brave.

“Dudley’s a wizard. He wouldn’t belong at Smeltings!”

“You stay out of this!” Petunia screeched.

“Harry has a point. What happened at the zoo cannot happen again. I need to control my magic and Hogswarts is the safest place to do it.”

“Dudders---.”

“ _ENOUGH_!” the professor shouted, causing the room to fall quiet.

The professor looked to Dudley and tilted his head to the door.

“Both of you wait outside,” Professor Snape barked, then glaring at Dudley’s parents. “I want a word with your… _parental guardians_.”

Dudley nodded. “Yes, professor.”

He went to the front door, Harry followed. They both stepped out. There was quiet. Harry looked at Dudley. He had an expressionless face. It was sort of cool but scary. Harry chose not to speak.

Not long after, Professor Snape emerged from Number Four, rubbing the bridge of his nose again. He looked at Dudley and Harry, eyes narrowed.

“We shall be heading into London today to purchase your school supplies. Follow me and do not go _wandering_ away.”

“Yes, professor,” both Harry and Dudley chimed.

They followed the professor to the side walk. Harry looked around. There was no car or taxi. There were no broomsticks either. Were they going to take the bus to London? But then, Professor Snape faced the road and stuck his hand out, a long stick held in his palm.

Suddenly there was a loud bang and a huge gust of wind. And, seemingly out of nowhere, a purple triple decked bus appeared. The front door opened and standing beyond it was a young woman with bubble gum blue hair and trendier looking set of dress that Professor Snape wore.

“Welcome to the Express! Also known as the Knight Bus. Tonks is the name and this here is Ernie.”

The man behind the wheel, unshaven and wearing large round glasses that magnified his eyes merely grunted.

Tonks was beaming and remained beaming when she realised who one of the prospective passengers was.

“Hallo Professor! One adult?”

“And two children,” the professor forced out.

“Oh! And who’s this one then? Is he your son, professor?” Tonks asked, winking at Harry. “He’s very cute.”

Harry blushed. “I’m Ha---.”

“Enough nonsense. Both of you, in,” Snape barked.

Once everyone was on board, the bus shot off. Sitting still was an impossible task as the bus weaved in and out of traffic at high speeds. Everything out the window was a blur. Harry looked around in amazement. Posters with pictures that moved of broomsticks and contraptions, floating lights lining the isles, and a woman knitting hands free. There were all sorts of people riding the bus, wearing variations of what the professor wore. Old people, young people, people heading to work, family on an outing, friends going out. Are they wizards too?

Before they knew it, they were at their stop. Most if not all made their way off the bus. Professor Snape looked at them and moved without a word. Dudley and Harry followed.

Stepping off, Harry looked around and saw they were on an ordinary street. He couldn’t see anything remotely magical. Two or three people went off down the street, but the rest of the bus riders headed into a tiny, grubby-looking pub and that was where the professor headed towards.

Inside was dark and shabby but they weren’t stopping there for drinks and a catch up. They continued to the other side of the room, into the open courtyard, and through an archway to a large bustling sunlit alley. Already, Harry felt a light hum around him unlike any feeling he had felt, and when he entered the alley, the sight he was greeted with blew him away. There was so much happening, so many things to discover. There were droves of people moving through the crowded alley with their shopping and purchased goods, of chatter and laughter, with shops lined on either side selling all sorts of things.

The professor suddenly stopped, in front of a shop selling robes, before approaching a tall, black-haired witch in emerald-green robes and a stern face. They exchanged a few words before they both turned to the two boys.

“Potter. Dursley. This is Professor McGonagall. You will follow her in purchasing your school supplies and listen to what she says.”

“Thank you, Professor Snape,” Dudley replied.

“Yes sir,” Harry answered.

Professor Snape turned on his heel and swooped away at that, leaving Harry and Dudley with Professor McGonagall and a curly blond haired boy around the same age as Harry and Dudley, and the boy’s mother. Harry noted how nicely cut their clothes were and well put together they looked. It was subtle but clear that they are made from money.

Harry looked down, in comparison to the boy, Harry was wearing baggy hand me downs. But then Harry frowned, causing him to look at Dudley, and taking note of how the clothes on Dudley were no longer baggy on his slighter frame. The clothes fitted Dudley well in fact, as though they have shrunk. But Harry knew for a fact that Aunt Petunia hadn’t had them tailored…

“Mr. Potter. Mr. Dursley. I am Professor McGonagall, deputy headmistress at Hogwarts School. This is Mr. Finch-Fletchley who will be attending Hogwarts this year as well.”

The boy smiled, clearly excited to meet others like himself. Dudley stuck his hand out and the boy shook it immediately.

“Mr. Finch-Fletchley. Dudley Dursley.”

“A pleasure. Please call me Justin.”

“Justin. Likewise.”

Justin, turned to Harry and his hand out expectant, and Harry shook his hand, excited to meet someone else who could do magic his age as well.

“Hi Justin. I’m Harry Potter!”

Suddenly, three older kids who were hanging nearby jumped in, and all of them were staring right at Harry. Feeling a bit intimidated by the stares and wondering why they were staring at him in silent awe and wonder, Harry nodded his head jerkily and said, unsure, “Hello?”

Suddenly he was bombarded with questions.

“Are you _the_ Harry Potter? The Boy Who Lived?”

“Can we get an autograph?”

“Will you be starting Hogwarts this year?”

“Wow. You are so cuuuute!”

“Shorter than I expected.”

“Can you show us your scar?”

Harry felt cornered and overwhelmed by the sudden hyper attention before the professor stepped in.

“Miss. Fairchild, Miss. Sharma, Mr. Coleman!” Professor McGonagall said sternly. “That is enough!”

“Oh! Didn’t see you there, professor.”

“Sorry Professor McGonagall.”

“We’ll just... we’ll just go.”

“See you at school, Harry!”

As suddenly as they appeared, they left.

Harry blinked. “What was all that about?”

“Don’t let that get to your head,” Dudley said, bemused.

Justin and Mrs. Finch-Fletchley were both looking at Harry differently.

“Are you famous?” Justin asked.

Harry shrugged, uncomfortable. “I’m just Harry.”

They turned back to the professor who waited patiently for them to finish.

“We will first visit Gringotts Wizarding Bank,” she said. “There, you can exchange your money to the currency we use in wizarding Britain.”

Harry turned to Dudley at the same time as Dudley turning to Harry, both realising they didn’t have any money. But the adults and the curly haired boy were already moving towards the tall white building up ahead. Harry and Dudley followed behind.

When they came up to the building and walked up the stairs, they walked past a funny looking guard. With long fingers and feet, pointy features and at least a head shorter than Harry, Harry realised he was seeing a goblin.

Gringotts, they were being told, was one of the most highly protected buildings of all Great Britain- the other being Hogwarts itself. With unknown depths and goblin magic protection throughout, with some vaults even protected by dragons – you would be mad to try and rob the place.

They walked through a series of doorways, each guarded by goblins, before stepping into a vast marble hall with more goblins, scribbling in large ledges, weighing coins in brass scales, examining precious stones through eyeglasses. It was fascinating.

They went up to the teller and watched as Mrs. Finch- Fletchley exchanged several fifty pound notes for several gold coins, which were placed in an anti-theft pouch. When it was their turn, Harry was told he had a trust vault set up from his parents. Dudley on the other hand, because his parents weren’t here with them, was awarded a bursary. Both of them were given an anti-theft pouch as well and each had a yearly cap of how much could be withdrawn from their vaults.

A weight lifted off Harry’s shoulders in knowing he was able to afford new things rather than having to buy hand me downs to use at his new school. Harry was surprised by how light the pouch was, despite seeing how many coins were placed in the pouch. The thought that he had his own trust vault was the most surprising of all. Were his parents rich? Had his parents left him all of that, knowing he will be going to Hogwarts one day?

As Professor McGonagall explained the currency in Wizarding Britain, they headed to Madam Malkin’s Robes for All Occasions, to start their first experience of shopping in the wizarding world. Madam Malkin herself was in store along with her assistant. The three of them were fitted and didn’t have to wait long for the robes to be cut, sown and packaged, ready for carrying.

Then, they bought their trunks which was an uneventful affair, before going to Flourish and Blotts to buy their school books. It was strange, seeing Dudley excited about books. Other than reading _1984_ during the holiday, Dudley only ever used books to throw at him.

Harry himself saw many books that caught his interest, especially _Curses and Counter-curses (Bewitch Your Friends and Befuddle Your Enemies with the Latest Revenges)_ because there would be a high chance of him coming across bully’s at school. It would probably be fun to try these out on Dudley too, as pay back. Professor McGonagall saw the cover of the book and looked at Harry disapprovingly. Harry reluctantly put the book back.

Afterwards, they went to buy quills, ink and parchment, followed by a telescope, cauldron, phials and brass scales from the Knick Knack shop. They also went into the smelly shop, the Apothecary, that sold potion ingredients, with all sorts of dry and slimy things. Harry was just glad he didn’t have to pick and weigh the ingredients himself. The professor simply asked at the front counter for three sets of the first year’s potion ingredients.

Stepping out from the Apothecary, Harry had a headache from all the smells and fumes. And so too did Justin and Mrs. Finch-Fletchley. So, they took a break at one of the cafes, eating ice cream under the shade of an umbrella outside at Florean Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlour.

Across from where they were, was a shop selling broomsticks which had several boys around Harry’s age with their noses pressed against the window, practically drooling over what the display showed was a brand new broomstick, the Nimbus Two Thousand.

“Excuse me, professor,” Harry said, gaining Professor McGonagall’s attention. “Do we get to fly at Hogwarts?”

“First years have flying lessons, once a week beginning on the second week. There are also Quidditch tournaments between the houses– first years however are not permitted to compete.”

“Professor. Sorry. Could you please explain further as to what would constitute as an offence to the Statue of Secrecy?” Mrs. Finch-Fletchley asked.

As McGonagall explained, Harry didn’t think it would be too hard to hide his magic from Muggles. Unfortunately, that would mean he wouldn’t be able to use any neat trick to make life easier at Little Whinging. But there was Hogwarts and Harry could finally be free. Sort of. McGonagall had moved on to talking about the school rules and it didn’t seem all that free. But he will get to learn magic, and that was exciting.

Returning to Surrey, with Justin and his mum taking a different tube home, Harry’s thoughts were still on what Ollivander had said about the owner of his wand’s brother who gave him his scar. Wasn’t the scar from the car accident? If the brother wand gave him the scar, was there ever a car accident? Was it an accident the person killed his parents or were they, in fact, murdered? For someone who had done great but terrible things, to want to murder Harry’s parents and put a scar on Harry’s forehead, what did they do to deserve it? Was the killer still alive, locked up somewhere? What happened?

These thoughts temporarily disappeared, and in place was dread, as they walked up to Number Four.

Harry and Dudley left when Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia were dealing with the fact that Dudley was going to Hogwarts. They didn’t like anything magical. What else would they do, other than lock them up? Ground them? Take their equipment away?

Professor McGonagall could have just dropped them off, but instead knocked on the door herself and waited. The door swung open. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia answered the door almost immediately and gasped at seeing the professor.

“Good evening, Mr. and Mrs. Dursley. May I have a word?”

“No, you may not!” Uncle Vernon boomed.

“Wait. Vernon,” Aunt Petunia said, squeezing Uncle Vernon’s shoulder. She turned to Dudley and nodded her head to the stairs. “Both of you, upstairs.”

Both Harry and Dudley did as they were told, and went to their respective bedrooms. Harry glanced back to see the front door closing, and the adults moving to the lounge room.

In his room, Harry sat on his bed. Despite his trunk having returned to its original size from being shrunk, he didn’t unpack his things or look at his books. He couldn’t hear any shouting or yelling. There were just murmurs which Harry couldn’t decipher or figure out. Harry’s eyes grew heavy, exhausted from the day’s shopping, and he eventually fell asleep.

The following morning, and every morning that followed, Harry woke up on his own accord to a quiet house. It seemed Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon were half terrified and half furious, that both children under their roof were going to Hogwarts. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon didn’t bother Harry very much, didn’t get him to do any chores or fix food. They mostly pretended Harry didn’t exist, which was just fine the first few days but then it became a bit depressing.

They bothered Dudley though, more than they used to, almost forcibly trying to spend more time with him and convince him not to go to Hogwarts. But Dudley always refused, which was funny to watch.

Sometimes after breakfast Harry would join Dudley on his morning walks. Or more like morning strolls as Dudley went about it in a slow, relaxed way - like he had plenty of time despite the heat of the summer. And Dudley doesn’t talk a whole lot, mostly seemed to be lost in his own thoughts. It made Harry wonder what he could be thinking, because he hadn’t known him to be much of a thinker.

Until Dudley threw questions at Harry randomly, quizzing Harry of things apparently in their textbooks.

Which Harry was annoyed at because it meant Dudley had not only read their textbooks on Potions, Charms and Transfiguration, Dudley had also managed to read _A History of Magic_ and _Magical Theory_ without falling asleep.

Which Harry also started stressing about, thinking he had loads to catch up on and who knows how many other kids their age have caught up on their readings?

Somewhere between absentmindedly flipping through the pages, reading bits and pieces that caught his interest, it dawned on Harry that the actual _learning_ of magic involved lots of reading and memorising and organising and understanding and thoughts. Not very much of practising it.

There wasn’t much to do but read. And some things he read made him think, and some dots started to connect. He still had a lot of questions but no one around with the answers.

It was a little over a week since their trip to Diagon Alley. Again, he woke to a quiet house, but today was slightly different. Today is Harry’s birthday. He wondered what he should do. He didn’t feel like going outside as he didn’t know where he would want to go, and it was hot outside anyway.

His door was unlocked as always since and he brushed his teeth with no Aunt Petunia counting the seconds. Then he went downstairs and to the kitchen.

Upon entering, he sees Dudley seated at the table, eating a small bowl of cornflakes while reading _History of Magic_ , like every morning since. Uncle Vernon’s papers were slightly crinkled and folded, and the plate at his seating empty except for breadcrumbs and oil residue. That was nothing new, except today, there was a colourfully wrapped rectangular shaped item on the table next to Dudley’s.

Dudley pushed the present towards Harry with a smile. A present for Harry?

“Happy Birthday, Harry.”

Harry blinked, surprised.

“Dudley, what---?”

“It isn’t much but I thought you might like this.”

“You didn’t have to--.”

“Just open it.”

Harry stared at Dudley. Dudley raised an eyebrow. Harry ripped the wrapping paper off to reveal... a book. On the front cover there was a picture of a round ball with wings. Of course Dudley would get him a book. Sure, it was a little worn around the edges, second hand most likely, but at least it wasn’t a coat hanger or a sock that Uncle Vernon had given in the past. It was an actual present! Harry read the title and looked up, curious.

“Quidditch Through the Ages?”

“It details the history of Quidditch and how the game is played. You’d seemed interested in flying. I thought you might like this.”

Harry grinned. “Thanks Dudley.”

Dudley smiled and went back to his breakfast. Harry took a seat the table, placing the book down beside him.

“It’s quiet,” Harry commented.

Dudley didn’t say anything to that. He finished what was left of his cereal and then tidied up after himself and Uncle Vernon. Harry helped himself to some cornflakes and ate them as he watched Dudley move a bout in the kitchen, having never seen Dudley do chores before... never mind _willingly_.

Harry suddenly realised something.

“They knew.”

Dudley paused before he continued drying the dishes.

“Who knew.”

“Your parents. I never knew how I was doing all those things. And all along they knew. That I was doing magic. My mum, your aunt, was a witch. So was my dad, a wizard. And my parents were apparently rich. And I look like them. Professor Snape, Professor McGonagall, even Ollivander, knew them by name. So my parents, they must have been good people. And those kids knew _my_ name and acted like I’m someone famous. And I got this scar from a bad wizard, not a car crash that killed mum and dad. What really happened to my parents?”

“ _He_ did.”

“Who?”

“Lord Voldemort.”

Harry frowned in thought.

“My parents must have been fighting against him. Voldemort. They must have been on the front line.”

Harry scratched his head, confused and frustrated, becoming more and more upset.

“He killed my parents and tried to kill me. But I’m alive. And he disappeared? How does a dark wizard just disappear? My parents are dead. How am I still alive? I was just a baby. I’m nothing special b-but people know my name? I-I don’t **understand**!”

Suddenly there were arms around him, hugging him tightly.

“Harry. _Harry_. Listen. Calm down.”

“Let go!”

“You’re making the house shake. Calm _down_. _Breathe_.”

“I _can’t_!”

Dudley pressed Harry’s head against his chest, to a steady beating heart and even breathing.

“Listen to my heart. Listen to my breathing. Listen. _Listen_. Listen and follow. Slowly breathe in and out. In... and out.”

Harry followed Dudley and forced himself to breathe in slowly and out slowly. He started to calm down. He looked around them and saw the items around the house were shaking but gradually they too calmed down. When Harry finally calmed down enough, Dudley pulled back and gave both his arms a squeeze.

“Alright?” he asked.

“Sorry,” Harry mumbled.

Dudley passed some tissues and patted him on the shoulder.

“You’re fine,” Dudley said calmly, stepping up before moving away to put the dishes away.

Harry quickly wiped his face and blew his nose. He noticed a patch of tears and snot on Dudley’s shirt but Dudley didn’t seem to care. Dudley had a glass of water in hand and placed it in front of Harry. Harry didn’t realise he mouth was dry. He drank some water.

He could feel Dudley watching him.

“Let us start from the beginning. What do you know so far?”

Harry stared at the glass in his hands.

“My parents didn’t die in a car crash and I didn’t get this scar from it.”

Dudley sat down in the chair next to him.

“There was dark wizard called Voldemort. He did great but terrible things and killed many people, with people who followed him,” Harry continued. “Then there was a war, the Wizarding War. My parents were on the side fighting against him, to stop him.”

“What else?”

“He killed my parents, then tried to kill me. But somehow I’ve alive and he disappeared.”

Harry took another sip of water.

“What do you want to know?” Dudley asked.

Harry frowned, glaring hard at the glass.

“Why had Voldemort himself killed my parents, then tried to kill me? How did I survive? Where did Voldemort go? What were my parents _really_ like?”

There was a long silence. Harry glanced at Dudley who was looking out the window.

“Your parents must have had friends while at Hogwarts. There might still be teachers at Hogwarts who’d taught them. Perhaps they have some answers.”

Harry perked up at that. Of course, his parents must have had friends and they would have been taught by a professor at school. He can ask them! But then…

“How am I supposed to find their friends?”

“Hogwarts probably has a library with an archive section. Old newspapers and school newsletters. There’ll be mentions of them somewhere.”

Harry grinned, hope and determination rising in his chest. He could finally get some answers and know who his parents were, meet some people who were friends with them!

Dudley patted his shoulder and stood up.

“Until then, we have a little over a month before Hogwarts. You might want to crack open a book.”

Harry, snapped out of his thoughts of possibilities, gave Dudley a glare.

“I have!” Harry protested.

Dudley raised a challenging eyebrow.

“What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?”

“…A powdered root of what to an infusion of _what_?”

“Point proven.”

Harry looked away at that, his shoulders slumping.

“Might as well. I’d be expected to know a whole lot, expect _great things_.”

“Ignore them. Focus on your studies. Be yourself.”

Harry glanced at Dudley again. Harry was still watching Dudley, still curious as Dudley folded the drying cloth and placed it on the bench top. Dudley tilted his head, looking back at Harry, before giving a warm, genuine smile.

“Let me know what you think about the book.”

“Sure,” Harry said with a nod.

Dudley gave his shoulder another pat before heading out and up the stairs.

Harry smiled to himself, taking up the gifted book, holding it in both hands, with Dudley smile fresh in his memory. It was still weird, that Dudley was being nice to him, trying to help him. Was this what it felt like? To finally have someone looking out for him and caring about him? Harry liked it. He just hoped it wasn’t temporary.


	2. Better

There was little over a month left before Dudley Dursley would go to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Despite having read through all the textbooks twice already, not including the read throughs he had done with his family back home, Dudley still felt under prepared.

From the moment he woke up twenty-four years in the past, in his eleven-year-old body, Dudley was not prepared at all. He didn’t know why. He didn’t know how. He just knew he shouldn’t be here. Therefore, his number one objective was to return home as soon as possible.

However, as the days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months, the hope of returning home as suddenly as his unexpected arrival grew slim.

Which meant he needed to take matters into his own hands.

One problem: he had limited resources.

As soon as he was allowed out his bedroom, he sought out the first place he went for information: the library.

While the local library held some truths, that meddling with past events could pose great risks to established events and the future, it was not what Dudley needed. He needed facts, case studies and statistics. For something that Muggles considered abstract or make believe, he knew the only place he could gain any semblance to an answer was the Wizarding World.

Usually, the first person he turned to regarding anything magic was his wife. But he couldn’t bloody well do that since she’s a child at this point of time. And any connections Dudley had established in the Wizarding World when he was older was null and void too, as those people would have no idea who he was, nor would they take an eleven-year-old Muggle seriously.

With no means to support himself, no connections to rely on nor a mode of transport he could freely use, his first objective to return home was put on the back burner.

But his situation, unexpected and unexplainable, was all he could think about and he needed _answers_.

The last thing he remembered was being with his wife and daughter, seeing their terrified faces before darkness consumed him.

Then, the events after waking played out the same as they had been on his eleventh birthday. The same abnormal number of presents, the same trip to the zoo with the same group of people.

That is, right up until people went flying at the slightest push of his hand.

Judging from his parents’ reactions, he had never done anything strange before.

Knowing his own past, Dudley had not been a wizard.

How did he come to have magic? Did this mean the future was already altered?

It was a piece to the puzzle that made no sense. He didn’t know where to place it.

Being allowed to eat again did not bring his appetite back. His parents had the audacity to act as though nothing had happened, nothing has changed, and things will be back to normal. He made a point to never be home during the day.

He didn’t think he would need to revisit the subject of his parents again. He had moved out well over a decade, and established his own family, living in central London.

He hadn’t thought his parents had it in them to lock their own son up, that he would also be starved as punishment, just as they had done to Harry countless of times.

Then again, they had pushed his wife and daughter out of their lives, wanting nothing to do with them, when they discovered they were magical.

His parents always were funny about anything magic.

The last time he saw his mum was when she refused to see Sue and Tilly again.

The last time he saw dad was at mum’s funeral.

And now here they are, both alive in all their ignorant glory.

He had no desire to relive his childhood, nor live it again under his parents’ roof.

He also didn’t want to accept it, that his life with Sue and Matilda, that all his accomplishments, and all that they had been through together were now just memories.

When he laid in bed each night, he wished and hoped that he would wake up the next day and be there with Sue and Matilda, where he truly belonged.

And every morning he woke up, he was frustrated and disappointed that he was still at his parent’s house, still eleven years old.

It was insane. He felt like he was losing his mind.

But with no clues and no resources, he needed to focus on something else in the meantime. He couldn’t sit on his hands and do nothing. He was always a busy man, always striving to use his time wisely. He hated being idle for too long. He needed to occupy his time in a way that was useful, not only for him to feel some sense of control of the situation but also to stay sane.

He needed to make do with the cards he now holds, not dwell on his losses.

He needed to push forward and do _something_.

When he thought of family, Sue and Tilly came to mind.

But now, in this old yet new life he was living, the thought of family shifted to someone closer.

Harry.

With new eyes and a mature mindset, seeing Harry at age eleven, scrawny and short, lost and alone, completely clueless with no support. Harry had no one looking out for him, to make sure he’s okay. It was most certainly neglect and abuse by his parents, how they have been treating Harry. How _Dudley_ had treated Harry.

In a few short weeks, Harry will be thrust into a new world that he had no idea of ever existing before, with expectations and responsibilities waiting from said new world. To do great things. To defeat a dark wizard. To move mountains. All of that had happened before, before Harry was eighteen and all while he was away at school.

Harry was just a _child._

Why was the world so _cruel_ to him?

Knowing what happened in the future, he couldn’t in good conscience stay idle and allow it to happen. Despite his worries that he could change the outcome of the future he knew of, therefore eliminating his chances of returning home, it pained him seeing someone so young and vulnerable being mistreated.

Dudley was determined to do right by Harry this time around where the adults had failed before, where his younger self had failed Harry.

When not one, but two Hogwarts letters arrived in the mail, one for Harry and one for Dudley, he was not only surprised but thrilled. Not only would he be able to protect Harry at school, he now had a clearer and easier path towards finding answers and a solution to his number one objective.

And, having been a mere observer and restricted to learning magical theory, he was now able to put learnt theories to the test. But he didn’t want to just be passable at utilising his magic. He wanted to master it to the point where using it came effortless.

The prescribed readings for the first years was easy material. Sue had already covered it and more when Tilly was seven. It was no surprise to Dudley that on second reading of the materials himself, he was confident his first year at Hogwarts would be a breeze.

It also helped that even though he was eleven again, his mind was still thirty-five-year-old him, with memories and personality to match.

And thirty-five-year-old Dudley Dursley was eager to raid the libraries of Hogwarts as soon as he could.

He would be lying if his hunger wasn’t for his own satisfaction. But there was another motivator. If worst comes to worst, that he won’t be able to return home, that the life he had with Sue and Tilly do become mere memories, he needed to be ready. He needed to protect himself, protect Harry, protect the people around them. He needed to be of use when the time came to fight.

He would not be of use to anyone if he was just passable.

He needed to be better.


	3. Slytherin?

It was finally the 1st of September, and Harry had been awake since five o’clock. He was excited and nervous, but mostly excited, as he was going to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He was going to meet other kids just like him and be learning how to use magic. He was going to leave dreary Privet Drive and enter a brand new world.

Last night after dinner, Dudley told his parents about how they were getting to school. Harry, who was sitting on the stairs, just out of sight, saw the defeat on his uncle and aunt’s faces. There was some hush talking which Harry couldn’t make out. Dudley said some things, Aunt Petunia spoke a bit and wrung her hands a little, and Uncle Vernon had his head bowed before giving off a loud sigh, saying they will drop them off at King’s Cross station instead.

At around nine o’clock, there was a knock on his door. Harry opened it to see it was Dudley, smiling brightly. Nobody else bothered to knock except Dudley.

“Morning Harry. All packed and ready?”

Harry grinned. “Definitely.”

“Come down for breakfast. We’re heading off in half an hour.”

“… Okay.”

Dudley patted him on the shoulder, then dashed off downstairs.

When Harry went into the meals area, Dudley was already at the table, along with Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon. Uncle Vernon was reading the newspaper and Aunt Petunia was reading a magazine, as though it was another normal day.

Except, this was the first time all of them sat at the same table at the same time for breakfast.

Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia didn’t say ‘good morning’ to Harry. Harry hadn’t expected them to. He didn’t expect much from his uncle and aunt anyway. They never did wish him a good anything.

Dudley wasn’t reading a book at the table for once. He beckoned Harry closer to sit at the table with them. As Harry sat down, Dudley poured some orange juice into a glass. He smiled at Harry as he passed him the glass, then continued to eat his cornflakes. Harry smiled back, sipped on the juice, then proceeded to help himself to some cornflakes too.

At nine thirty, Uncle Vernon declared it was time to go. Dudley had already brought his trunk down and was lifting it into the car. Harry went up to his room to get his. He looked around his bedroom one last time, making sure he got everything he needed, not that he took much out of his trunk anyway nor owned many other things, before closing the trunk lid shut.

When Harry turned to leave, Aunt Petunia was standing in the doorway. Instead of ignoring him as she had done for well over a month, she was staring straight at him. Harry wasn’t sure what to do.

“Aunt Petunia?”

She narrowed her eyes, eyes glaring. Her nostrils flared.

“I don’t want to hear any tomfoolery from you. You are to stay at school during the winter break. Understood?”

“Yes, Aunt Petunia.”

Aunt Petunia turned on her heel and was about to go but stopped short. Dudley was standing right behind her and seemed to have heard everything. Aunt Petunia smiled at Dudley who stared back, expressionless.

“Let’s go, pumpkin,” she said, cheerful.

“Yes,” was all Dudley said.

Aunt Petunia glanced at Harry, then back to Dudley, before marching down the stairs without another word. Only then did Dudley look at Harry, his blue eyes kind and warm again.

“Need a hand with your trunk?”

“Yes, please. I---.”

Harry stared, confused, as Dudley went straight for his trunk, lifting it up with apparent ease, carrying it out the room. Harry followed his cousin down the stairs and out the front door.

“How are you doing that?”

“Guess.”

Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia were waiting by the car. Seeing Harry and Dudley, Uncle Vernon went back to the front door and locked it. Aunt Petunia got into the car and sat in the passenger seat. Dudley loaded Harry’s trunk into the boot. Once everyone was in the car, they left for London.

The ride was silent at first, tense. Uncle Vernon turned the radio up, but there was still tension.

They arrived, twenty minutes to eleven, at King’s Cross station. With two carts loaded with a trunk each, they moved as a group into the station and towards the platform. As they walked, Aunt Petunia was quiet, Uncle Vernon tried to get Dudley to talk, and Harry watched the two, having never heard Dudley and his dad have a conversation before.

“Funny way to get to a magic school, the train,” Uncle Vernon mused. “Magic carpets all got punctures, have they?”

“It’s just sensible this way,” Dudley replied mildly.

“What’s the platform?”

“Nine and three-quarters.”

“There’s no such thing!”

“There’s a particular bricked barrier we have to walk through. It’s the only one with both platform 9 and 10 signs on either side.”

“Barking mad!”

They eventually came to a stop. Dudley turned to his parents.

“Would you like to come through with us?”

Uncle Vernon spurted. “No, thank you!”

“I suppose this is goodbye,” Dudley announced.

Aunt Petunia hesitated before pulling Dudley into her arms. She whispered some words in his ear, kissing him on the cheek a few times before letting him go. Then Uncle Vernon went up to Dudley and put his hands on his shoulders. He didn’t say anything for a moment.

“Dudley. You’re a big boy now. You’ve made your decision and---.”

He cut himself off. After a pause, he dropped his hands and stepped back, his face troubled.

“Come home soon,” Aunt Petunia said.

“Expect an owl.”

“Not too often! The _neighbours_ will _see_ ,” Aunt Petunia hissed, looking around as if the neighbours were loitering the station right then and there.

Harry watched the Dursleys. Even though Dudley seemed to still hate his parents, and his parents seemed unsure what to do with him anymore, they at least still cared about him to say goodbye, will miss him and look forward to reading his letters.

“---Muggles, of course. Now what’s the platform number?”

“Nine and three-quarters!”

Harry had already swung around at the word ‘Muggle’ while he looked for the barrier Dudley was talking about. There was a group of four boys and one girl lead by a plump woman, all with flaming red hair. The boys were wheeling a cart with a trunk like Harry’s, and one of them had an owl!

He watched as the four boys, all pushing their own trunks, run straight through the barrier, one by one. Harry had to blink each time one disappeared, wondering bewilderedly how it was possible.

Harry pushed his cart over to them. The plump woman glanced over, noticed Harry’s trunk and gave a kind smile.

“Hello there dear. First time at Hogwarts? Ron’s new, too.”

She pointed at the last and youngest of her sons. He was as tall as Dudley but much thinner and gangling, with freckles, big hands and feet. And a long nose.

“Hello. Yes. Do I, just, walk straight through?”

“That’s it. Through that barrier right there between platforms nine and ten. Don’t stop and don’t be scared you’ll crash into it. That is important. Best do it at a bit of a run if you’re nervous. Go on, go now before Ron.”

Harry nodded and positioned him and the cart to the barrier, and he walked which turned into a jog and then became a run. The barrier was coming nearer and nearer. Harry had to shut his eyes. He ran through something, a void of silence and nothing. And then, noise returned, chatter, laughter, cats meowing and owls hooting. He opened his eyes to the sight of...

A scarlet steam engine, waiting next to a platform packed with people. A sign overhead said Hogwarts Express, eleven o’clock. Behind him was a wrought-iron archway where the barrier had been with the words Platform Nina and Three-Quarters. Harry looked back at the crowd of people and grinned. He made it!

Harry moved to the side and waited a few minutes. He watched as Ron came through who did the same thing as Harry- looked at the train, then behind him, then at the crowds. Ron moved towards the train, awe clear on his face.

Harry glanced back to the barrier, but Dudley hadn’t come through yet. He figured Dudley would know what to do, seeing that he knew about the barrier. So, Harry pushed his cart down the same direction as Ron.

He passed many different children of all ages, boys and girl. Most were wearing robes that didn’t have the Hogwarts crest. Some were in groups, catching up with friends and classmates. Others were looking for a seat.

Ron looked back at Harry and nodded towards an empty compartment.

“Want to share one with me?”

“Okay!” Harry said, eager to make a new friend.

When it came to lifting his trunk up on the other hand, no matter how much Harry lifted and pulled, it wouldn’t budge. He scratched his head and wondered how on earth Dudley was able to hull it this morning, realising he never guessed how Dudley had done it.

“Would you like a hand?”

It was Justin Finch-Fletchley, and already he was wearing his school robe. Harry nodded quickly.

“Yes, please.”

With the two of them, they managed to get the trunk on the train.

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. It’s good to see a familiar face around here. Apparently, you _are_ famous.”

“Oh.”

“Want to join me in my compartment? I’m with a few other first years.”

Harry glanced at Ron who was staring at something on Harry’s face, before Harry shook his head.

“I’m alright, thanks.”

“Well, if you change your mind, we’re just a few compartments up. See you later, Harry!”

With Justin gone, Harry sat down next to the window opposite Ron who was still staring at Harry’s face.

“Ron, don’t forget your lunch!”

The plump lady, Ron’s mum, appeared at the window. She held out what appeared to be a sandwich wrapped up in paper. Ron looked like he swallowed a lemon as he accepted it without much enthusiasm.

“… Thanks mum.”

Suddenly she grabbed Ron’s face and kissed his head. Ron’s face turned pink.

“Now, have fun dear. Study hard. And remember to write!”

“ _Bye mum_!”

Harry couldn’t help smiling at that. He looked out the window and watched the continued exchanges outside the compartment, curious. Ron’s mum was proud of the oldest one, Percy, a Prefect, before warning the twins, Fred and George, to behave themselves. They seemed like any normal family, full of warmth and fun teasing.

Harry turned his attention back inside the compartment, back at Ron. Harry frowned.

“Is something on my face?”

“Yes. No. I mean---. Are you Harry Potter?”

“How did you know? Harry asked, surprised.

“You have a scar on your forehead?”

“Oh. Yes, I’m Harry,” Harry said, patting his hair down flat. Or at least tried to.

“So that’s where You-Know-Who---?”

“Yes. But I can’t remember it.”

“Nothing?”

“I remember a lot of green light. That’s about it.”

“Oh.”

“Are all your family wizards?” Harry asked, wanting to change the subject.

“Er. Yes, I think so. I think mum’s got a second cousin who’s an accountant, but we never talk about him.”

“So you must know loads of magic already.”

They talked about families; Ron about his parents, brothers and sister, then introduced his rat called Scabbers; and Harry about the Dursleys, and Dudley who was also going to Hogwarts this year too. They talked about growing up and when they first did magic.

Ron seemed to cheer up when he heard Harry had to wear Dudley’s old clothes and never got proper presents.

Harry also told Ron how he only found out about magic, the Wizarding World and Hogwarts a month or so ago. Ron was shocked, he couldn’t imagine not knowing about magic, ever. When Harry explained how Professor Snape collected them and took them to Diagon Alley, then meeting Professor McGonagall, Justin and Justin’s mum, Ron was curious about the two teachers.

That was when Harry discovered about the four Hogwarts houses: Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. Professor Snape was the Head of Slytherin house and taught Potions. Professor McGonagall was the Head of Gryffindor house, taught Transfiguration and was, of course, the Deputy Headmistress. If Harry got to choose, he much preferred stern Professor McGonagall over mean Professor Snape.

Then Harry lamented how he must have loads to catch up on, as Ron knew so much already. Ron tried to cheer him up in return, saying there’s loads of people from Muggle families and that they learn quick enough.

By then, the train had travelled well and truly out of London, speeding through the countryside where there were fields full of cows and sheep. He could hear people walking through the train now, talking and laughing.

He wondered where Dudley was for a bit, before a great clattering outside in the corridor, and a smiling, dimpled woman slid back the door and said, “Anything off the cart, dears?”

Seeing the array of food and lollies, Harry jumped to the chance. He went out to see what was selling before realising he had no clue what any of the items were. He had some money left over from his trip to Diagon Alley and so he ended up buying each of everything. He brought his goods back to his seat and laid them out next to him. He urged Ron to swap the sandwich for a sweet before the two of them studied each and every one of them and tried them all out.

With the countryside now flying past, there was still no sign of Dudley. Feeling restless from sugar overdose, Harry decided to go for a walk. He asked Ron if he wanted to join but Ron just waved half-heartedly, unable to keep his eyes open and already suffering a sugar crash.

He was almost barrelled over by a bunch of people running past when he stepped out. After a moment of hesitation, he closed the door behind him and set off down the train.

He passed the compartment where Justin was, exchanging waves as Harry went by. Harry entered the next carriage, moving unhurried and trying to not draw attention. Some of the doors of the compartments were opened and some weren’t. Conversations he heard snippets of didn’t interest him. Maybe Dudley was in the next carriage…

Just as Harry was about to enter the next one, the doors connecting them opened and the boys who almost knocked him over before, certainly knocked him over this time. Harry was helped up quickly though. He looked at the boys, realising then that it was the twin brothers with the red hair.

“Oohhh. Sorry. You alright?”

“Yes. Thank you.”

“Blimey! Wicked scar…”

Harry watched as realisation dawned on the boys. Two sets of eyes stared at him.

“Are you Harry Potter?” they both asked, at the same time.

“I-er-yes… I’m Harry. You’re Ron’s brothers.”

The twins looked at each other.

“Count us surprised. You’ve met our youngest brother before us!”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Harry. I’m George---.”

“And I’m Fred! Nice to finally meet the one and only. Know what house you’ll be in?”

“Er. Not really.”

“That’s okay. Nobody really knows until they are sorted. All our family has been in Gryffindor though. It’s sort of expected that Ron will be too.”

“Oh yes, Gryffindor: House of the brave and courageous!” Fred said proudly, pointing at his chest.

He was pointing at his robe to the left, where instead of the Hogwarts emblem was red and gold with a lion.

“How do we get sorted? Nobody’s really told me,” Harry said.

“You have to fight a troll of course!” Fred answered, nodding his head solemn.

“By using magic,” George added, equally solemn.

“What! You’re joking!” Harry said, alarmed.

“I’m sure you will be alright,” George said, smiling.

“Best of luck, Harry,” Fred said with a grin.

“Hope to see you in Gryffindor!” George said.

The two boys ran off, entering the next carriage. Harry stared after them. Fight a troll? Harry didn’t know any magic spells, let alone practised any. Did that mean he wouldn’t be allowed into Hogwarts? He needed to find Dudley to figure out a plan, fast.

Entering the carriage from the one Harry had been about to step into was Dudley. He was already wearing his school uniform. Harry never felt more relieved. Behind Dudley was a girl with brown bushy hair and behind her was a round-faced boy – both also already in school uniform.

“Harry. I was looking for you,” Dudley said, relief clear on his face.

“We have to fight a troll,” Harry blurted out instead.

Dudley frowned slightly. “Why do we have to do that?”

“To be sorted into a house.”

“Fight a troll?!” the round-faced boy squeaked.

“Are you sure?” the bushy haired girl asked, dubious. “They can’t expect _all_ of us to know how to do that, surely!”

Instead of panicking, Dudley was calm and even smiled slightly.

“I wouldn’t worry too much. The sorting is much less dramatic than that.”

“B-but… I don’t know any spells!” Harry exclaimed.

Dudley shook his head. “There’s no troll fighting. The sorting is done by the Sorting Hat.”

“How do you know that?” the girl demanded. “It doesn’t say how we are sorted in ‘Hogwarts, A History’.”

“A group of prefects informed me,” Dudley replied smoothly. “I have no reason to doubt their words.”

Does that mean the twins were pranking him? And Harry fell for it?

Then Harry, realising Dudley seemed to have already made friends as well, felt somewhat nervous. He looked at the boy and the girl, and even though they didn’t seem threatening or mean, Harry couldn’t help thinking back to his life at Little Whinging.

“Hermione. Neville. This is Harry. Harry, this is Hermione Granger and Neville Longbottom, also first years,” Dudley introduced.

They exchanged awkward greetings. If Harry thought he was awkward, Neville was even more so. And Hermione, he had the impression that she was a bit of a bossy-boots.

“We’re trying to find Neville’s toad,” Dudley explained. “A summoning charm should do the trick … Prefect Clearwater! Just the lady I was looking for.”

A girl, tall and beautiful, stepped out of a compartment as Dudley spoke, turned to them and smiled, bemused. She had a badge on the front of her robe with the letter P in the middle, next to the blue and bronze Hogwarts emblem of an eagle or raven.

“Please Dudley. It’s Penny. Did you have a question?”

“Yes. Could you summon a lost toad by any chance? Neville here lost it.”

“We can certainly try. What’s your toad’s name, Neville?”

“T-trevor.”

Penny nodded and withdrew her wand. Harry, Neville and Hermione watched with rapid attention.

“Accio Trevor the Toad!” Penny called, moving her wand in a swish motion.

For a moment, there was nothing. Suddenly there was a thud on the carriage door. Dudley strode over and opened it before quickly ducking. Something flew over his head and went straight towards Penny. Penny’s eyes widened and wasn’t quick enough before it hit her in the face. Penny grabbed the object off her face, cringing as she held it up. It was a toad.

“Is this your toad?” Penny asked Neville.

“Y-yes! Thank you…”

Penny gave a slight smile. “You’re welcome.”

While Neville seemed to be comforting the toad, Hermione asked Penny many questions about the summoning spell. How she did it, what was the wand movement and so on.

Dudley turned to Harry. He seemed worried.

“Alright?”

“Yes. Ate too many sweets,” Harry explained, thinking that’s what Dudley meant.

“I’m glad you’ve tried out the sweets. They’re truly out of the ordinary,” Dudley said, good-naturedly. “I’ve been walking through the train, getting to know people and hearing their holiday stories. Would you like to join me?”

Harry didn’t want to do that. Not really. He didn’t feel comfortable enough to walk up to a stranger and start a conversation. But it was something to do.

“Er… Okay.”

Dudley smiled kindly. Harry got the impression that Dudley knew what he was thinking.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Dudley said, glancing at his watch. “We’re not far from Hogwarts. Do you want to get changed before we get there?”

“Sure. I, er, left my things in my compartment...”

Dudley nodded and started moving towards the end.

“Penny, Hermione, Neville – I shall see you all later.”

“See you, Dudley,” Penny said, waving.

“It was nice meeting you,” Hermione said. “You too, Harry.”

“Bye! T-thanks, Dudley!” Neville said.

Harry nodded. Dudley entered the next carriage. Harry followed. They made it to Harry’s compartment and went inside. Harry was looking forward to introducing Ron to Dudley, but Ron wasn’t inside. Ron’s things were still there, however, and their lollies were still scattered over the seat.

Harry went to his trunk and dug out his robes.

“You worry too much,” Dudley quietly.

“What do you mean?” Harry asked as he fastened the clasp of his robes.

“I meant what I’d said, back at the park. I don’t want to hurt you.”

Harry suddenly found the floor very interesting. How did he know he was worried?

“Harry.”

Harry didn’t move. He could see from the corner of this eyes as Dudley walked over to him. He stopped infront of him. Nobody moved. Harry eventually looked at Dudley. All Harry could see was Dudley’s blue eyes, now intense, almost electric blue.

“I won’t let the past repeat itself,” Dudley stated firmly.

Harry could only stare back, not sure what to do or how to respond.

“I _swear_ on my _life_ , Harry. I won’t hurt you again. Please believe me.”

“I believe you.”

Dudley seemed to be searching for something on Harry’s face. He didn’t seem convinced. Harry tried to understand the expression on Dudley’s face. But then, Dudley closed his eyes. When he opened them, he was calm again. He reached out and gave Harry’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. It felt comforting and Harry felt himself relax.

“No matter what happens, Harry, just know that I am always here for you,” Dudley said, smiling.

Harry smiled faintly back, feeling warmed. “Thanks Dudley.”

Dudley dropped his hand, taking the warmth with it. Harry looked at the lollies. He picked up the already opened box of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans and held it out to Dudley.

“Want to try some?” Harry said.

“Sure,” Dudley accepted, taking a small handful.

At that moment, the compartment door opened. It was Ron. He smiled at Harry but then saw Dudley and the smile dimmed.

“Who are you?”

Dudley held out his hand to shake.

“Dudley Dursley.”

Ron didn’t take it. He seemed angry.

“I know all about you and your parents. So, I’d stay far away from Harry if I were you,” Ron threatened.

Harry was surprised and confused. Surprised because Ron has mistakenly thought Dudley was a threat and was standing up for him despite having only just met today. Confused because _that’s_ what Ron thought of Dudley after their conversations?

“No, it’s not like that! Dudley’s nice!”

“I know a spoiled prat when I see one, Harry. And he is _it_.”

While Ron glared at Dudley, Dudley barely reacted. He just stared back coolly before sitting down in the seat opposite them. He looked down at the jellybeans in his hand, popped one in his mouth and leaned back, getting comfortable.

“While I appreciate your protectiveness of my cousin, I’m not the enemy here. I don’t want to hurt him. So, save your breath and sit down.”

Ron frowned, seeing that his threat and glaring didn’t affect Dudley at all. He glanced at Harry with a questioning look. Harry nodded to the seat next to him. Only then did Ron back down. He sat next to Harry.

“Have a favourite Quidditch team… young man?” Dudley asked.

“My name’s Ron,” Ron said, giving Dudley an odd look. “And yeah, I do actually: Chudley Cannons.”

“Interesting choice.”

“What do you mean by that?” Ron demanded.

“Simply that it’s interesting,” Dudley replied calmly.

Ron looked like he didn’t believe him.

“Right. What about you?”

“I haven’t decided yet. But tell me about the Cannons. What do you like about them?”

It was rocky start, but soon they were talking about Quidditch and flying. Listening to how Ron talked about this favourite team, he seemed to have calmed down. Harry was glad that Ron and Dudley were getting along. At least for now.

Soon, the speakers cracked to life. A cool voice stated to prepare as they would be arriving at Hogsmeade station in 5 minutes. Not long after, the train came to a stop. People moved towards the exit, pushing and shuffling out to a tiny and dark platform. The moon was out and Harry was surprised to see the stars, which wasn’t very common in suburbia and the city. It was cold too. Harry shivered.

A voice spoke above the crowd, calling for first years. Harry, Ron and Dudley moved towards the voice and saw the lamp first before a big, tall and hairy faced man appeared, beaming over the sea of heads.

“C’mon. Follow me--- anymore firs’ years? Mind your step, now! Firs’ years follow me!”

They followed the man down a steep narrow path which eventually led to a stretch of water and, up ahead, perched atop a high mountain on the other side, was a large castle with tall windows that sparkled, and many turrets and towers.

There were little boats sitting on the water by the shore. The man called for four on a boat and no more. Harry, Ron and Dudley boarded one together, then Neville joined their boat. They watched as the others tried to get into boats of four. Soon, they were all gliding across the lake together. Harry couldn’t stop staring and neither did his classmates around him. The castle itself was huge, ancient yet beautiful. The view was magnificent, wonderful. It seemed to hum and glow with welcoming warmth.

Eventually, they reached an underground harbour where they all climbed out onto rocks and pebbles. The man lead them up the stone steps and came to a stop at a huge, oak front door. He knocked on the door three times and waited.

The door swung open immediately, and, behind the door, was Professor McGonagall.

“The firs’ years, Professor McGonagall.”

“Thank you. Hagrid. I will take them from here.”

She then pulled the door wide open revealing an entrance hall so big that you could fit the Dursleys’ whole house in. The interiors were like what he had seen at Gringotts, with the stone walls lined with flaming torches lighting the way, and high ceilings and marble and stone floors.

After a brief introduction of the sorting process, a short wait and an encounter with the ghosts of Hogwarts, the professor had them line up before leading them into the Great Hall.

It was another sight to behold. The place was lit by thoughts of candles floating in mid-air over four long tables where the rest of the students were sitting. At the top of the hall was another long table where the teachers were sitting. With all eyes on them, Harry, feeling unnerved glanced at Dudley to see Dudley didn’t seem nervous at all. How can Dudley be so _calm_?

The professor led them up to the platform before the teachers’ table, where a four-legged stool stood with a patchy, frayed and dirty looking pointed hat placed on top of it. The hat suddenly twitched and began to sing.

Harry smiled weakly at the end of it, while the whole hall burst into applause. Dudley was right. It was less dramatic than fighting a troll. But thinking of what the hat spoke about, on what each of the houses represented, he didn’t think he would fit into any of them. What if the Hat didn’t think he was good enough for any of the houses? What if he was sent packing back to Little Whinging, never to learn magic again?

“When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted,” the professor said.

She looked to her parchment.

“Abbot, Hannah!”

“HUFFLEPUFF!”

Cheers and applause from the Hufflepuff table.

“Bones, Susan!”

“HUFFLEPUFF!”

The applause continued. She joined Hannah at Hufflepuff.

“Boot, Terry!”

“RAVENCLAW!”

A different table clapped this time.

“Brocklehurst, Mandy!”

“RAVENCLAW!”

Harry quickly realised it was alphabetical order.

“Dursley, Dudley!”

Dudley patted Harry’s shoulder and went up. He sat down and put the hat on. For some reason, it took longer for the hat to shout a house and it seemed Dudley was muttering to himself.

“SLYTHERIN!”

Dudley emerged, but there was no expression on his face. He passed the hat to the next person as he went to sit at the Slytherin table whose occupants either clapped politely or not at all. They looked like an unpleasant bunch. He wondered if Dudley already knew that, since he didn’t look exactly thrilled to be sorted in Slytherin at all.

A boy was then sorted in Ravenclaw before it was Justin’s turn who went to Hufflepuff, shaking hands with everyone in reach at the table.

Hermione was sorted into Gryffindor which Ron groaned loudly in annoyance at. Did they know each other already?

When it was Neville’s turn, the hat took almost as long as Dudley’s turn was, before the hat sorted Neville into Gryffindor. Neville ran off, still wearing the hat, and had to jog back amid gales of laughter, passing it to “MacDougal, Isobel”.

The fastest so far was for a boy called “Malfoy, Draco” which screamed “SLYTHERIN” before it even touched his platinum blonde hair. Harry watched as the boy swaggered towards the Slytherin table, shoved another boy to shift over, before sitting down.

Finally, Harry was called. As he stepped forward, whispers suddenly broke out, like little hissing fires all over the hall. Harry kept his eyes on the ground as he put the hat on. Then, a small voice spoke in his ear, simply asking one question:

_Slytherin or Gryffindor?_

Harry was surprised. The hat was letting him choose.

Gryffindor seemed warm and friendly in comparison to Slytherin, judging by what he knew of the Weasley family who are all Gryffindors. And seeing the sea of Gryffindors tonight as a whole, he got a good feeling about them.

On the other hand, while Dudley was in Slytherin, the rest of the Slytherins didn’t look very welcoming or kind. Professor Snape, head of the Slytherin house itself, was not the nicest person, and seemed to hate Harry for no reason from the moment they met. And according to Ron, Voldemort was a Slytherin too and Harry wanted nothing to do with him.

He had a feeling the hat wanted to put him in Slytherin.

But to Harry, the real answer was clear.

“GRYFFINDOR!”

Harry took the hat off, smiling. He passed it to the next person as he walked towards the Gryffindor table. Gryffindor was excited in welcoming him. People jumped to the chance to shake his hand and he seemed to be getting the loudest cheers yet.

He sat down beside Neville and watched the rest of the sorting, less nervous and more at ease. Harry looked over at Slytherin table, wondering if Dudley was disappointed. As if sensing Harry’s gaze, Dudley met Harry’s eyes and smiled. Harry smiled back.

Finally came Ron. He was sorted into Gryffindor almost immediately. Harry was extremely glad his first friend ever was in the same house as him, as well as the same house as his family. He came and sat next to Harry, grinning.

The next and last person “Zabini, Blaise” was made a Slytherin, before Professor McGonagall rolled up her scroll and took the Sorting Hat away.

Harry looked down at his empty gold plate and only now realised how hungry he was.

An old man with a long silver beard and purple robes stood from the teachers’ table. His seat was in the centre. He welcomed the school to Hogwarts, then, he said “Nitwit! Bludder! Oddment! Tweak!” before thanking them and sitting back down. Harry looked around him amazed at everyone clapping and cheering. Him, belatedly realising that it was Albus Dumbledore!

“Is he a bit… mad?”

“Mad?” Percy said airily, who spotted a P badge on his robe. “He’s a genius! Best wizard in the world! But he is a bit mad, yes. Potatoes, Harry?”

Harry looked in front of him and his jaw dropped. There was so much food and everything smelt fantastic. Harry didn’t know where to start so he accepted some potatoes first and dug in.

Some of those around Harry kept asking him all sorts of questions such as what had happened the night You-Know-Who killed his parents and where has Harry been all these years, to the point where Percy had to tell them to stop or he would dock points.

Harry wanted to see the brighter side of things, that it could be worse than being ignored. But being suddenly treated like a celebrity when before Harry had kept to himself and was thought to be a waste of space, it was a bit too much. He was thankful when they listened to Percy and stopped asking Harry about That Night and started talking about other things.

Sometime down the track, they had a conversation with their house ghost, Nearly Headless Nick. Then, after dessert, Harry felt a bit sleepy. The rest of the evening passed in a blur.

Eventually Professor Dumbledore did some announcements and they sang the Hogwarts song, before heading to their dormitories- first year Gryffindors led by Percy and Heather, this year’s Gryffindor fifth year Prefects.

There wasn’t a lot of talking when they went up to their five-bed dormitory. Everyone else was tired too. Their things were brought up already. Harry pulled on his pyjamas and climbed into bed. Almost immediately, he fell asleep.

He woke up the following morning, refreshed and excited for the day ahead. Dean, Seamus and Ron had no trouble waking up themselves. Neville on the other hand was still sleeping.

“I’m not going to wait around,” Ron said, throwing on his school robe. “I smell breakfast.”

“Shouldn’t we wake him up?” Dean asked.

“Nah. Plenty of time. Let’s head down,” Seamus said.

“Harry, mate. You coming?” Ron asked.

Harry shook his head.

“You guys go. I’ll wake Neville up.”

“Come on. Don’t bother with him. He’ll wake up when he wakes up. Let’s go and eat!” Ron urged.

Harry ignored Ron, looking down at Neville’s sleeping form before shaking his shoulder. Neville woke with a start, disorientated, before his eyes focused on Harry.

“H-hi Harry. Wha…?”

“We’re heading down to breakfast. Do you want to come?”

“Oh! S-sure! Wait, let me get dressed.”

Once Neville was dressed, the five of them went down to breakfast together. Seamus said one of the classes he was looking forward to is Flying. Flying lessons for first years would begin the second week in. Harry was looking forward to that too. So did the others.

Then, they talked about Quidditch, continuing as they entered the Great Hall together, its large tall doors open wide revealing most of the students were present, having breakfast. Harry was able to add more to the conversation with some things he read from _Quidditch Through the Ages_ , and Ron and Dean talked about their favourite teams in the League, who they thought was the best player at the moment, and so on.

As they sat down, Harry looked over at the Slytherin table, trying to find Dudley in the sea of black, green and silver. But he couldn’t see him. Dudley was usually an early riser. Maybe he had risen earlier and already had his breakfast?

But then, he realised, he was looking in the wrong crowd. Sitting at Hufflepuff table, next to Justin, was Dudley. And next to him was Hermione.

“Where’re you going?” Ron asked, puzzled.

Harry, having stood up, replied, “I want to see Dudley. And Justin. Hermione’s over there too.”

Ron, looking between Dean and Seamus, and then to Harry. “Mind if I come with?”

“If you want,” Harry said, shrugging.

Dudley looked up as Harry approached and gave a warm smile.

“Morning Harry. Slept well?”

“Definitely. Hi Justin. Hi Hermione.”

“Good morning, Harry,” Justin welcomed. “It’s good to see you again.”

“Yeah. Good to see you too,” Harry replied, smiling.

“Hi Harry,” Hermione greeted, then levelled a look at Ron. “Ronald.”

Ron ignored Hermione. He was glaring at Dudley who stared back, unblinkingly.

Harry was confused with Ron’s reaction. “What?”

“He’s a Slytherin!” Ron exclaimed.

“What’s wrong with being in Slytherin?” Justin asked, also confused.

“Everyone knows Slytherins are evil!”

“Stop it, Ronald. Dudley’s been nothing but nice,” Hermione said, crossing her arms.

“You don’t know _anything_ ,” Ron snapped at Hermione. He turned back to Harry. “See you later, Harry.”

“What an absolute tosser,” Justin gaped, staring at Ron’s retreating back in disbelief. “Best to ignore him. He doesn’t know a single thing about you.”

“I’m not bothered,” Dudley replied.

Harry could see Ron’s words _did_ bother Dudley to a degree. Then Harry noticed the bags under his eyes.

Just when Harry was going to ask Dudley how he'd slept, Justin cleared his throat and introduced Harry to the other Hufflepuffs. Then Justin invited Harry to sit with them.

“Is that allowed?” Harry asked, eyes darting over to the teachers’ table.

“There are no rules regulating where one sits during breakfast and lunch,” Dudley explained.

“He’s right. The only mentions of seating arrangements in ‘Hogwarts School – Rules You Need to Know’ were relating to dinner and special circumstances,” Hermione confirmed.

“Believe me. She’s checked,” Justin supplied, eyeing the book Hermione has out on the table.

Harry sat down then. Dudley proceeded to pass him some toast, butter and jam and poured him orange juice. Harry smiled, said thanks.

Dudley brought up the topic of wizarding customs with them, which gained a few other first year Hufflepuffs to join in to include what they knew and to listen. Hermione seemed most interested and asked the most questions.

Hannah Abbott, Susan Bones, Megan Jones, Ernie Macmillian, Stephen Cornfoot and Zach Smith are from pureblood families. It was interesting, if not a bit too much to take in, the customs, greetings and hierarchies. Harry wondered if they would be quizzed about it in Hogwarts’ history class. Though, according to Ernie, these days these rules were less enforced. Susan pin-pointed the turn began after the Wizarding War.

Suddenly, Harry felt a lot of eyes on him. He noticed most of them stayed silent, their eyes glancing at Dudley a few times. Zach however remained fixed on Harry, his eyes zoning into him.

“So. Potter. What happened that night?”

“ _Zach_ ,” Megan hissed.

“Zach. Don’t,” Ernie said.

Zach ignored them.

“The night You-Know-Who disappeared,” he clarified.

Harry glanced at Dudley who stared at Zach, expressionless, while Zach avoided looking at Dudley.

“Zach, he’s dead,” Hannah whispered.

“You can’t really believe that,” Zach scoffed.

Zach turned to Harry, eyebrow raised.

“Well?”

“Not much to be honest since I was just a baby,” Harry answered, annoyed.

“Rubbish,” Zach hissed.

“Smith,” Dudley interrupted, his tone a warning.

A shiver ran through Zach but he continued to ignore Dudley. Zach’s lips twisted, his eyes mean looking.

“I think you know more than you’re letting on.”

“Right. You try remembering what happened when you were just a one year old,” Harry snapped.

While he didn’t want to leave Dudley, Justin and Hermione, Harry had enough of this Zach Smith bloke.

He left and went back to Gryffindor table. He was greeted by his house mates, either trying to be friends with him or ask why he was talking to a Slytherin. At least they didn’t ask for details of what happened the night his parents died, again. It still made Harry uncomfortable though, the attention. He replied generically and mostly ignored Ron.

Hermione joined Harry a moment later, huffing about how rude Zach was and that Dudley was giving Zach a lecture. Harry sort of wished he could have stayed around to witness that.

As the day continued, even though some people knew not to be rude, wherever Harry went, the whispers, pointing and staring didn’t seem to stop- him being ‘The Boy Who Lived’, his scar and how underwhelming he looked. It made Harry extremely uncomfortable and self-conscious, especially when he was trying to wrap his head around the whole magic thing, as well as making his way to classes on time.

His realisation during the holidays that learning magic was more than just waving a wand and saying some words became fact. Already, they were given homework in the form of essays and Harry wasn’t sure how he would be able to complete them all. Even Ron, Neville and Dean, raised in the wizarding world, looked confused and were struggling to keep up.

Only Hermione seemed to know what needed to be done, having already read all her books during the holidays, always organised with due dates and took detailed notes.

Harry wasn’t sure how he and Hermione became study partners when they’re almost complete opposites. Hermione was a bit too much at times, he wished she could relax a bit. She was always sticking to the rules, always hanging out at the library, all studying and no fun. There was no doubt that Hermione’s the smartest one out of the Gryffindor first years, if not the whole of the first years. Sure, she could be annoying at times too, with her bossing around, but at least she was focussed on getting work done.

Dean and Seamus were okay, but sometimes they were too loud and all they, and Ron, really talked about was sports. Or more specifically, Quidditch. Which Harry had yet to see being played. And while Harry was interested, he was not at all up to date with any sport nor had a favourite team.

Lavender and Parvati were a pair, and Sally-Anne and Sophie were another pair. Both pairs Harry could not relate to at all. Then there was Neville who barely spoke and was forgetful and clumsy at times.

“We have double potions today,” Hermione announced cheerfully, at breakfast Friday morning. “And then we have the afternoon off. I can’t wait to see what we learn today.”

Ron snorted, rolling his eyes and Neville seemed to withdraw. It was then revealed that Neville was nervous about potions class, especially Professor Snape. They looked over at the teachers’ table at that. The professor’s face seemed to be set to a permanent scowl.

“He does seem a little…” Hermione trailed off before shaking her head and smiling. “I’m sure it will be fine.”

“Right. Try telling that to everyone else,” Ron interrupted with a scoff. “Snape’s head of the Slytherin House. They say he always favours them- we’ll see if that’s true.”

“I got the feeling he didn’t like me very much as soon as he saw me,” Harry murmured, and then recounted the moment he first met the professor at Number Four.

Hermione frowned at that. Harry supposed she’s never met a disgruntled teacher before.

“I hope you’re right, Hermione,” Neville mumbled, hugging his toad. “Nan says I have to pass all my subjects. But after what I’d heard the older students talking about Professor Snape…”

“Neville. You’ve got to stop thinking like that,” Hermione said. She realised something and decided. “We’ll study together. You, me and Harry.”

Neville nodded slowly, giving a nervous smile. “Thanks, Hermione.”

Harry looked across to Slytherin table then. Dudley was seated at the end of the table, as he always has the past few days. Dudley always seemed to know when Harry was looking, because he looked up then and gave a small encouraging smile. Harry smiled back.

He realised he missed Dudley. He had only seen Dudley a handful of times when crossing paths between classes, and during mealtime. There never seemed to be a free moment where he could talk to him. Dudley seemed to have stopped sitting at the Hufflepuff table during mealtime, and Harry did not want to go near the Slytherin table. And the only class the Gryffindors and Slytherins share was Potions - this morning after breakfast being their first lesson together. Maybe Harry could talk to him then, arrange to meet up this afternoon.

It was then the mail came, carried by many owls. Letters, parcels and packages flew in from the ceiling, and swopped down, either dropping what they carried or landing near the receiver. Harry would never have anything. This morning, however, he received a note. Harry took it up, curious.

_Dear Harry,_

_Hope you are having a good week so far, your first week at Hogwarts. I knew your parents from when they were at Hogwarts. They were Gryffindors too._

_I know you have Friday afternoons off so would you like to come and have a cup of tea with me around three? I live in the wooden house out on the grounds._

_Send us an answer back with an owl._

_Looking forward to meet you._

_Hagrid_

Harry looked over at Slytherin table again. Maybe he could invite Dudley too.

“Harry, what is it?” Ron asked.

“It’s a man called Hagrid. I never knew my parents but he did. Said they were Gryffindors too. He wants to meet me. I think I want to meet him too.”

“Oh! That’s nice of him. He’s the keeper of keys and grounds here,” Hermione said, and pointed him out at the teachers’ table.

Hagrid, as it turned out, was the big giant man with long, shaggy mane of hair and a beard, the man who lead them from the train, across the lake and to the castle on their first night. He waved when he saw Harry. Harry hesitantly waved back before borrowing Hermione’s quill and writing a quick message back to Hagrid, accepting the invitation.

He was glad he had tea with Hagrid to look forward to because their double Potions lesson was just as they had feared. It was one of the worst classes he has ever had and Snape was completely unreasonable and unpleasant.

First, Snape made mention about him being a ‘celebrity’, then he grilled Harry with questions that everyone else was clueless of, except for Dudley and Hermione; the latter had kept her hand raised the entire verbal assault and Snape had not once chose her to answer his questions. And when Harry answered all but one question correctly, Snape insulted Harry even more.

Then, Neville managed to melt the cauldron he and Seamus were working on. Harry, who partnered with Hermione, was set up next to them. Not only did Snape yell at Neville and ordered Seamus to take him to the hospital wing, but he blamed Harry for not stopping Neville from adding the quills just to look good – and lost a house point for it!

Harry couldn’t understand how such a foul teacher like Snape was even allowed to teach. Ron said Snape could turn even nastier. Surely the headmaster knows about this. There was one thing for sure though – Snape downright hated Harry and Harry had no idea why.

Harry was glad he wasn’t in Slytherin. Who knows how much worse it could've been for him?


	4. Reality Check, Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finding time to write has been difficult but I will persevere. Thank you everyone for the love and for your patience.

He remembered the day as though it was yesterday. Then again, it had been mere months ago, which was perhaps why the memory was still fresh.

It had been a bright and sunny day, warm yet pleasant. The three of them went into the station together, he with Tilly and Sue. Tilly had a skip to her steps that hadn’t gone unnoticed. He remembered feeling proud, yet sad, glancing over to Sue several times. He knew she’d felt the same, even though she was better at hiding her emotions.

When they’d gone through the barrier, allowing Tilly to find her fellow duelling peers who’d also been accepted to Hogwarts, Sue did something she’d rarely allowed in public: she took his hand and simply held it. She was tense, almost worried. He tentatively squeezed her hand. She squeezed back. They both watched Tilly interacting with Bethan Farley-Burgess, Tilly’s closest peer. Dudley had relaxed before his eyes turned away and landed on an unruly haired, bespectacled man in well fitted robes, watching him from afar.

“----Muggles of course. Now what’s the platform number?”

“Nine and three-quarters!”

Dudley snapped out of his thoughts. In front of him was a younger, unruly haired, bespectacled Harry Potter wearing Dudley’s old, baggy clothes. He had heard the loud exclamation too. He watched as Harry moved away from him, towards the red-haired group.

Four out of six of them were pushing a cart with a trunk. The one with the owl was obviously the eldest, one was younger, and two in the middle had to be twins. There was also a plump woman and a young girl among them, without a trunk each.

This was obviously not the first time for them heading to Hogwarts. Which begs the question as to why they were talking out loud. Their lack of concern in breaking the Statue of Secrecy in a Muggle setting bothered Dudley.

“Okay. I won’t write,” Dudley finally replied, responding to Petunia’s concern.

Petunia bit her lip. He could see she wanted to say something but held back.

And Vernon, having had difficulty deciding whether to feel proud or ashamed, had finally settled with a grimace and didn’t seem to know what to do with his hands.

It was a stark difference to the day he had gone to Smeltings Academy for the first time. He remembered his parents had been happy. His mum hadn’t stopped fussing over him, and his dad had kept giving him advice, thumping him on the back several times, neither had wanted to let him go.

Seeing the pair of them now, subdued and uncertain, he almost felt sorry for them.

Last night when he had informed them that he and Harry would take the Knight Bus into the city, he had been surprised by their response. They hadn’t attempted to change his mind again. They hadn’t tried to physically force him to stay. Instead, they offered to drive them, with no other reason but to make sure they got to King’s Cross safely and on time, it seemed.

Which meant they obviously still love him.

Or the idea of him.

Now that reality was beginning to set in for them, that their own son could do magic and is going to Hogwarts, maybe they will re-assess their beliefs on magic. Maybe they will become brave and learn to accept magic. Maybe in this life they won’t grow bitter and spiteful.

He didn’t want to waste time thinking it further. Not when his Objective Number One was still a possibility. And not while Objective Number Two disappeared through the barrier.

“Goodbye,” Dudley finally said.

Without a backwards glance, he turned away from Petunia and Vernon, and went towards the barrier. The smaller red-haired group was still standing in front of it. The plump woman looked thoughtful after Harry’s departure, the young boy stared blankly at the wall, and the girl was pulling at the woman’s sleeve, trying to gain her attention.

“Mummy, mummy! That was Harry Potter!”

“How do you know?” the boy asked, annoyed.

“His name was on his trunk! Did you see, mummy?”

“You’re right indeed,” the plump woman said, looking oddly relieved. She gave the boy a gentle push. “Alright now. Your turn, Ron.”

The boy, Ron, did a bit of a run too and disappeared into the wall, followed by the mum and the girl. Dudley wasted no time and went after them. A familiar, yet different sensation went over him as he went through. And when he saw the red train, he knew he had made it.

Already the platform was packed, with parents bidding goodbyes to their children. Seeing them all caused his chest to tighten.

 _This_ was the last time he saw Tilly.

In fact, _this_ was the last place he had been before he woke up in this world.

He remembered going through the barrier with Sue and Tilly. He remembered speaking to Harry, Ginny and their children on the other side, and Sue being surprised that his cousin Harry was in fact Harry Potter. He remembered hugging his precious girl in his arms, holding her tight. He could almost feel her weight right now.

That day was just as busy as today. Nothing had seemed amiss. Everything had been going as expected.

_What happened?_

He looked around him now, almost hoping the answer would appear, or come to mind.

_What happened?_

“Are you alright, young chap? You seem lost. Although, we’re probably no better.”

Snapped out of spiralling thoughts, Dudley turned to the voice.

It was a young man, and with him was a young woman and a girl who Dudley assumed was their daughter. They looked out of place, dressed in Muggle clothing, business casual, and unable to hide their curiosity of their surroundings. He figured they are young professionals bringing their daughter to board the Hogwarts Express for the very first time.

“I’m fine. Thank you for your concern, sir.”

“Is someone here with you?” the young woman asked.

“I’m here with my cousin. It appears I’ve lost sight of him.”

“Are you a Muggleborn too?” the girl asked, a mix between excitement and curiosity, a book held close to her chest.

Dudley paused. Three thoughts went through his mind.

  1. That question was somewhat rude.
  2. They’re definitely new to the wizarding world.
  3. He had always thought himself to be a Muggle.



“In a way,” Dudley replied calmly. “Is it your first year at Hogwarts?”

“It is! Yours too? I’m ever so excited. I’m Hermione Granger. This is my mum and dad. They’re dentists.”

“That explains the brilliant smiles,” Dudley quipped.

Hermione beamed brightly. Her parents laughed gently together, warm.

“Dudley Dursley,” Dudley introduced, holding out his hand and shaking theirs. “Pleasure to meet you, Miss Granger, and Mr and Mrs Granger.”

“Pleasure, indeed!” Hermione replied cheerfully.

“Looks like you’ve made a friend,” Mrs Granger said encouragingly to Hermione.

“We’ll take that as a sign for us to leave,” Mr Granger added, smiling.

Hermione immediately went to her parents, hugging them.

“The greatest risk any of us will take is to be seen as we are.”

“Like so many things, it is not what is outside, but inside that counts.”

“Goodbye, sweetheart.”

“We love you, darling.”

There was a whistle from the train, then an announcement calling all passengers to board the train. The Grangers said their last goodbyes to one another before they parted. Hermione looked as though she was about to cry.

“Miss Granger. Would you like to share a compartment with me?” Dudley asked.

“W-what? Oh, yes. I’d like that.”

Dudley led the way, navigating through the crowd. As he and Hermione came closer to the train, a crying, round-faced boy was standing by the train, while an old woman seemed to be berating him.

“If it’s gone, then it’s gone. You best board the train now or it’ll be gone too!”

Dudley found an empty compartment. He pushed a panel away on his trunk and pressed the button it hid. The trunk immediately became lighter to carry. He loaded his trunk into the compartment, then helped Hermione with hers.

As Hermione climbed into the compartment, Dudley turned back to where the round-faced boy had been, his intention was to help him with his plight. He saw the lady, but the boy was nowhere to be found, and the platform was becoming emptier by the second. Dudley got back into the compartment and shut the door.

Hermione sat by the window on one side, waving out to her parents. Dudley opened his trunk, threw on his school robe, then settled on the other side.

Soon, the train started to move. He could see the tears starting to well up again from Hermione.

“May I ask what book you have there?” Dudley asked.

“Oh, this?” Hermione asked, looking down then holding it up. “It’s _Hogwarts, A History_ by Bathilda Bagshot. It’s ever so interesting!”

“Are you far through the book?”

“I’d already finished reading it, twice over in fact. This is my third reading.”

“What had been the most interesting event or fact you’d come across in there?”

“There is so many to choose from. Hogwarts’ history is fascinating, and I’m sure not all is covered within this book. However: Did you know that before the Hogwarts Express, students travelled to Hogwarts in all sorts of manners. Be it by broom, flying carpet, and even dragons. I’m sure you could imagine how disorderly this would have been. It was in 1827 when the then new Minister of Magic, Ottaline Gambol, made a suggestion to solve all of this, and without attracting Muggles’ attention- which was another problem at the time. Then in 1830, the Hogwarts Express was born; about 140 years after the Statute of Secrecy was signed!”

“That is a fascinating piece of history.”

“Yes, I thought so too!”

Dudley was impressed with her memory and enthusiasm. He could tell she was extremely bright. They continued to engage in conversation. Dudley mostly listened while Hermione talked about the day she had received her letter, how excited she had been and her thoughts regarding magic before the letter.

“And I thought magic was simply make believe, when in fact a whole world full of traditions and history laid beneath the surface! There is so much to learn, so many things to discover. In a way, we are at a disadvantage, having been raised in the normal world. We have much to catch up on!”

“I take it to understand that you’re ahead in the readings. I’d say you’re in a better position than most.”

“You don’t know that for certain! According to _Hogwarts, A History_ , it is estimated that one in every four Hogwarts students is a Muggleborn. Therefore, seventy-five percent of the student population had been raised in the Wizarding world or at least know of it before receiving their Hogwarts letter. Besides the prescribed textbooks, my parents bought me more books so I can be ahead. In fact, I should use this time wisely by reading.”

Hermione went to her trunk and pulled out several books. She placed them on the seat next to her, picked one up and glanced at Dudley.

“I’ve already read these books before. You’re welcome to borrow one to read,” Hermione offered.

Dudley looked over at the books. He recognised the titles immediately, having been some of the many books Sue had introduced as part of Tilly’s early education. Dudley had no desire to waste his time re-reading them, again.

“Thank you for the offer, but I will have to pass for now.”

Hermione frowned, before she shrugged her shoulders and raised her head high.

“Suit yourself,” she said, opening her book.

“I’m going to go find my cousin. I shall see you later,” Dudley announced.

Hermione didn’t reply, her head already stuck behind a copy of _Defensive Magical Theory_. Dudley admired her determination and diligence to do well. He left her to it and exited the compartment, but not before a narrow miss from being barrelled over by three boisterous boys, one of whom had a large spider on their arm. He smiled in amusement at that and closed the door.

Thinking of how Harry could be doing, Dudley was confident that Harry was on the train and would have made a friend or two. Even though Harry had no friends while at St. Grogory’s Primary School, mostly due to Dudley’s own bullying, he knew Harry had made some close friends during his time at Hogwarts.

With that in mind, he tried to not over-worry and just allow Harry his space. Dudley decided instead to catch up on his daily steps and meet new people while at it. A shame that Fit-Bits didn’t exist in this era, not that they would have functioned within the walls of Hogwarts.

He skipped those who had their compartment door closed. The first open compartment he came across were a group of five children, all dressed in plain Hogwarts robes, laughing amongst themselves while playing what appeared to be a game of Snap.

“Good morning! How is everyone?” Dudley asked warmly.

All responded positively, even excited, with some variant of “good” and “very well”.

“And how are you?” asked the stout-looking, blondish haired boy.

“Quite well, thank you. What’s that you’re playing?” Dudley enquired, noticing only then the smell of burnt paper.

“Exploding Snap. Have you never played?” the same boy asked.

“I’ve played Snap before, but never _Exploding_ Snap. Would you mind if I watched a few rounds?”

“Not at all. Come take a seat. We’re about to start a new round,” the boy replied.

“Thanks,” Dudley thanked, entering the compartment, and sitting down next to the boy. “Dudley Dursley.”

“Ernie Macmillan,” Ernie replied, shaking Dudley’s hand. “This here is Hannah Abbott,” the girl with the long hair waved, “Megan Jones,” the girl with the slicked back ponytail grinned, “Stephen Cornfoot,” the boy with the closely cropped black hair inclined his head, “and Susan Bones,” the quiet girl who sat in the corner gave a small smile.

Dudley shook each of their hands and said, “A pleasure to meet you all. Are all of you embarking on your first year?”

“We most certainly are. Are you as well?” Ernie asked.

“What gave me away?” Dudley jokingly asked, chuckling. “Yes, indeed I am.”

Stephen had gathered all the cards, shuffled them, and was now handing them out between the six of them. As Stephen did, Ernie explained the rules of the game. Dudley found it interesting that Snap and Exploding Snap weren’t completely dissimilar. The only factor that separated Exploding Snap from Snap was if a player wasn’t quick enough to say ‘snap’, the matching two cards would explode.

Dudley voiced to the group his findings between the two versions, which produced some curious looks.

“Did you grow up away from magic?” Hannah asked.

Dudley thought of the times Harry would perform accidental magic, and how Dudley had been on the receiving end of some of those outbursts.

At the time, Dudley was fearful of Harry as well as resentful of the fact that Harry could do cool, unexplainable things while Dudley couldn’t. After the dementor attack, Dudley saw himself for who he truly had been. He slowly realised afterward that Harry would not have behaved or reacted the ways he had done if he hadn’t been cornered into a situation or been suffering from emotional distress.

While being thrown back to the past, before his tyrant behaviour escaladed and moved on to other children, removed the chances of children who had suffered from Dudley’s bullying to not experience it from him at all, it would never erase what he had done to them. If he wasn’t rewriting the past by being here and was in fact in parallel universe, those children still suffered what they had endured.

And it was especially so regarding Harry because right up until the time Harry left for Hogwarts, Harry had been Dudley’s one and only target. Not only that, but he was also treated harshly and neglected severely by the hands of his parents. Harry’s whole childhood would hold no fond memories of them. Which was why Dudley had been surprised that after the Wizarding War had ended, Harry willingly corresponded with him in the form of Christmas cards.

The shame Dudley felt for having treated Harry in such a way, as well as having treated countless of other children during his childhood, it was immense. Still to this day, Dudley could not forgive himself. Sure, he had been a child himself, and had not been taught or raised any better. But to him, there was no excuse. There was no reversing what he had done.

“Dudley?” Ernie prompted, looking slightly concerned.

“Not particularly,” Dudley replied. “We didn’t need to rely on magic to do everyday tasks.”

“Really?” Megan said, shocked.

“I can’t imagine!” Hannah exclaimed.

Susan looked stunned.

“What’s it like growing up without magic?” Ernie asked, fascinated.

“Fairly ordinary,” Dudley replied casually. “Though, if magic were employed, many tasks could have been completed sooner. Such a travel. As a wizard or witch, you could travel to another country by portkey, through the Floo Network, or apparition in a matter of minutes. Whereas a Muggle would have to board planes to fly the skies or ships to sail the seas, which are basically large carriages with a capacity to hold a large number of passengers.”

Silence.

“You’ve lost me at 'planes',” Stephen admitted.

“What do you do when you need light in a dark room, or during the night?” Ernie asked.

“Do you just stand around a fire?” Megan questioned.

“Nothing as elementary as that. We use something called electricity,” Dudley revealed.

“What’s that?” Stephen enquired.

“Think of it as magic but for Muggles,” Dudley explained. “Electricity is used for almost everything: from cooking, heating and cooling, and sending messages, right down to our watches and cameras.”

They looked amazed at what Dudley was revealing to them.

“Is it fair to say none of you have ever experienced life beyond the Wizarding World?” Dudley asked, amused.

A boy who had paused outside the compartment and watched their entire exchange finally stepped in. He was skinny with blond hair and an upturned nose. He gave Dudley a scathing look.

“Well, the six of us are all from Pureblood families, _old_ families, going back many, many generations. Don’t expect us to lower our standards just for _you_ ,” the boy said bitingly.

“Curious. I don’t recall asking anyone to lower their standards,” Dudley coolly replied.

“Right, well, thanks for warming my spot. You can leave now.”

“Zacharias, that’s quite rude,” Ernie reproached mildly.

“He’s in my spot,” the boy indignantly replied.

“It wasn’t your spot to begin with, Smith,” Megan snapped.

“Just because we went to the same prep school, doesn’t give you the right to someone else’s spot,” Hannah reprimanded.

“Dudley, sit down. You don’t have to leave,” Ernie said.

Dudley had stood up during the squabbling. He did not have the energy nor the time to waste involving himself in playground skirmishes.

It was in this moment Dudley realised he would constantly be in an environment where such ‘confrontations’ would occur. He was no longer considered an adult figure observing children interacting. He was now seen as a child among children. That was something he would need to get use to while he finds a solution to return home. It did not mean he would allow himself to fall in if the situation were not compulsory.

“No, it’s quite alright,” Dudley assured. “I have places to be, people to meet. Again, a pleasure meeting all of you and thank you for your time.”

“See what you’ve done?” Hannah hissed at Smith as Dudley stepped out.

Dudley continued up the carriage, intending to travel the upper carriages first before coming around and move through the carriages further down. He stopped here and there, meeting many students from different years and houses. He introduced himself and asked how their holidays went, school highlights and expected upcoming events. Dudley received mostly polite responses. A small number were curt and dismissive, which Dudley didn’t take to heart and had simply moved on.

He came across a few other first years who seemed both anxious and exhilarated. He stayed a bit to hear what they were looking forward to at Hogwarts, and how they have been preparing, only to find out they haven’t cracked open a textbook.

Eventually, Dudley reached the door leading from the second carriage to the first, but he could go no further. The door had a plaque reading ‘Prefects Only’ to the front, a piece of parchment with a list of names stuck below it, and a student leaning against the wall beside it, as though he was a guard. He was wearing Ravenclaw robes and was casually reading a book. He looked up at Dudley as he approached and raised an eyebrow.

Dudley glanced at the names on the list and was surprised to see Gemma Farley. Gemma Farley, who Dudley knew as Gemma Farley-Burgess when he first met her, a world-renowned perfumer, owner of _Aroma Aesthetics_ , and mother of Tilly’s closest peer, Bethan, is here a fifth year Slytherin prefect.

“Prefects Only,” the Ravenclaw boy stated.

“Indeed. May I ask why you’re here?”

“Waiting for a friend. You?”

“I have some questions about the sorting,” Dudley said smoothly, quick on his feet.

The boy looked him up and down before rolling his eyes.

“First-ies,” the boy muttered. He gave Dudley a bored look. “You can take it up with them. They’ll wrap up soon enough.”

“Dudley Dursley,” Dudley introduced.

The boy stared at Dudley as though he was a foreign entity, before humouring Dudley with a handshake.

“Justinus Steele.”

For some reason, that name was familiar to Dudley. He couldn’t place where he had heard it from.

“Are you in your fifth year, Mr Steele?”

Justinus looked mildly impressed.

“How did you know?”

Dudley nodded to the book in his hand.

“That’s an O.W.L. Ancient Runes study guide if I’ve ever seen one.”

“There’s no reason you’d know that unless you have an older sibling, older friends or studying O.W.L. Ancient Runes yourself.”

“I like to read,” Dudley simply stated. “What are your plans after finishing school?”

“What’s it to you?”

“Curious.”

“My plan is to work for the Ministry.”

“Any department in particular?”

“Mysteries.”

Before Dudley could ask further, the door to the Prefects’ carriage slid open and more than twenty students strode out. All wore a P badge on their lapel except for one boy who only had a H badge, and a girl who had both H and P badges, both of whom exited the carriage last. They all dispersed as soon as they appeared. One of the girls with a P badge remained behind, stopped by Justinus’s side, greeting him warmly. Justinus glanced over at Dudley for a moment, only then realising Dudley was still there. He rolled his eyes.

“What’s wrong?” the girl asked, confused.

“First-y has a question.”

“Oh! Sorry, didn’t see you there. I’m Penelope Clearwater, fifth year Ravenclaw Prefect.”

“Dudley Dursley. First year, house to be determined. How are you?”

“I’m well, thank you. How can I help?”

“I have a question about the house sorting process,” Dudley prefaced. He paused for effect, then asked, “What _is_ the process of sorting one into a house?”

Penelope chuckled, glancing over at Justinus in amusement. “Should I spoil Dudley the surprise?”

Justinus shrugged his shoulders, dispassionate.

“Tell you what, Dudley,” Penelope said, turning back to Dudley. “I’ll give you a riddle and if you answer it correctly, I’ll reveal how newbies are sorted into their houses.”

“And if I answer incorrectly?”

“Then I won’t tell you how.”

“Fair enough. Let’s hear the riddle.”

Penelope thought for a moment, before she smiled and cleared her throat.

“In a single-story house at the corner of the road, the bedrooms were yellow, the kitchen was blue, the living room was orange, the garage was green, the entry hall was red and the sitting room was purple. What colour were the stairs?”

“It’s a single-story house. There are no stairs,” Dudley asked easily.

Penelope clapped, beaming.

“You’re absolutely correct, Dudley,” Penelope said cheerfully. “Now, the sorting process. It’s quite simple, really. At the welcoming dinner held in the Great Hall on the first night, first years will be called upon in alphabetical order to take a seat on a stool infront of the school. Then, they have to place a special hat on top of their heads. The Sorting Hat will determine which of the four houses you’d fit in the most.”

She then proceeded to name each house, listing their known attributes.

“Hope that answers your question,” Penelope finished with a beam.

“It does. Thank you for your time,” Dudley said.

“Not a problem! If you have any questions, feel free to reach out. I have a good feeling about you, Dudley. Hope to see you in Ravenclaw.”

“We will have to see what the Sorting Hat thinks. Good luck to both of you with your OWLs this year,” Dudley replied.

“Thanks…” Justinus said.

“Thanks, Dudley. Bye for now!”

The two walked away, Penelope whispering to Justinus what the responsibilities of being a Hogwarts Prefect were. After glancing in the newly emptied Prefects carriage, Dudley saw he was at a dead-end. He turned around and made his way back down the carriages, pass all the people he had already met. He stopped by the compartment he and Hermione shared to see she was deep in a different book.

“How was _Defensive Magical Theory_?” Dudley asked.

Hermione dropped the book she was reading down in her lap instantly, huffing out a breath.

“Quite frankly, it is rather boring,” Hermione admitted.

Dudley chuckled.

“I had found it to be one of those books that could be digested and understood once, easily, and be a chore to repeat,” Dudley remarked.

“You’ve read it already?” Hermione asked, her expression conveying something between surprise and unease.

“Yes,” was all Dudley said.

Something dawned on Hermione. She glanced at her books then looked back at Dudley pointedly, almost pained.

“All of these too?”

“Yes.”

“And here I thought I was ahead!”

“Trust me when I say this, and I’ve asked around: most haven’t even opened _A Beginner’s Guide to Transfiguration_.”

Hermione looked horrified at that.

“Exactly,” Dudley responded.

A soft knock rapped on the door. Dudley who was still standing went to open it, revealing the boy he had seen crying on the platform before boarding.

“Hi. I-I can’t seem to find my-my...”

“What can’t you seem to find?” Hermione asked, stepping beside Dudley.

The boy looked behind him down the corridor nervously.

“Are you trying to find your toad?” Dudley supplied.

The boy looked up, hopeful, then looked around their compartment.

“Y-yes! H-have you, have you found him?”

“A toad? Why would you get a toad?” Hermione questioned with a frown.

The boy’s shoulders hunched at that. “I-it was a gift…”

“No, we hadn’t come across a toad,” Dudley answered the boy’s question.

“Oh. Okay. T-thanks anyway,” the boy said dejectedly, turning away.

“I’ll help you find him,” Dudley volunteered, stepping out after him. “Miss Granger, would you like to help?”

Hermione looked to Dudley, surprised by the request.

“We will increase the chances of finding him with an extra pair of eyes,” Dudley explained. “It is no pressure if it’s not your cup of tea.”

“No, I would love to help!”

Dudley smiled warmly and turned back to the boy. “We’ll help you find your toad. I’m Dudley Dursley.”

“N-Neville. Longbottom.”

They shook hands. Hermione then shook Neville’s hand.

“I’m Hermione Granger.”

“Lovely. A few questions before we get started, Mr Longbottom. Where have you searched so far?” Dudley asked.

“Um…”

“Have you asked around all the compartments in this carriage?”

“N-not yet. Sorry...”

“How about the carriages toward the front?”

“I-I’ve done those but…” Neville finished by shaking his head.

“That’s half the search area completed, good work,” Dudley commended. “Let’s finish off this carriage and make our way down.”

Neville seemed to have gained some verve from the compliment and nodded his head, ready to keep going. The three of them made quick work of the current carriage, meeting a few more people, and moved on together to the next carriage down. As they finished another carriage together and entered the next, Harry entered the same carriage from the other side.

Dudley was relieved and saw Harry reflected the relief back. Something was wrong.

“Harry, I was looking for you,” Dudley greeted with a gentle smile.

“We have to fight a troll!” Harry exclaimed, almost panicked.

After calming Harry, Neville, and Hermione down, revealing that the sorting was done by the Sorting Hat, his thoughts returned to finding Neville’s toad.

While Dudley did know the spell to summon, he has yet to do so with a wand. The only magic he had done since the incident at the zoo, which had been unintentional, was intentionally and wandlessly shrinking his clothes to fit. Performing underaged magic outside of school isn’t prohibited per se. However, performing underaged magic using a wand outside of a permitted area or without special permission _is_.

Just as he voiced his thoughts on employing a summoning charm, Penelope stepped out of a compartment. He used the opportunity to ask her to summon Trevor the Toad.

After she succeeded, Dudley left Penelope, Hermione and Neville, and followed Harry back to his compartment. He had sensed something else was troubling Harry, and when Dudley assured Harry that he wouldn’t hurt him again, Harry hadn’t been able to meet his eyes. It confirmed to Dudley that he was right to be concerned.

Even though Harry said he believed him, there was still much to work through to get Harry past his fears and feelings of inadequacies. To the Harry infront of him, Dudley’s bullying behaviour toward him had only ceased about two months prior. Now, to be going to the same school as his bully of ten long years, it would cause anyone distress.

Perhaps it was the wrong decision to go to Hogwarts, misguided even to think he could protect Harry. Perhaps in Dudley’s quest to find more answers and solutions to his predicament, Dudley was instead causing more stress on Harry just by being here.

It hurt Dudley to see that his past actions have caused this much suffering. However, this wasn’t about Dudley feeling hurt for what he had done in the past. Dudley already had his time, went through years of therapy and improved himself to do better.

This was about Harry and helping him on his journey to heal.

It was then he met Harry’s new friend, Ron. Dudley was somewhat amused when the boy make a show of fiercely disliking Dudley in an attempt to get Dudley to leave Harry alone. Dudley wasn’t at all offended, but instead was curious.

As they started talking about Quidditch, Dudley had a moment of reservation when he realised Ron was the same boy with the older brothers, the oddly relieved mum and the younger sister. Something about the moments after the mum loudly word-dropped ‘Muggle’, to the moment she disappeared through the barrier, just didn’t sit right with Dudley. He couldn’t put his finger on it.

But seeing Harry and Ron interacting and getting along, Ron seemed harmless.

With an ardent friend such as Ron by Harry’s side, perhaps Harry didn’t need Dudley protecting him after all.

Not long after, they disembarked the train. Dudley, along with the other first years, followed a rather tall man through a small set of gates and down a steep path. Dudley realised this was the same man who had found them in the small shack on the rocks, just to deliver Harry’s Hogwarts letter the first time around.

It was a short walk before the path cleared. They were met with a magnificent view: a large body of water and ahead was a beautiful lit castle. They travelled across the lake by boats that steered themselves. And after being greeted by a wave of the ghosts of Hogwarts floating by, they filed into the Great Hall by the instructions of Professor McGonagall.

“It’s bewitched to look like the sky outside. I read about it in _Hogwarts, A History_ ,” Hermione shared to anyone close by.

Just as Penelope said, names were called out in alphabetical order with each child taking turns sitting down on the stool and placing the pointed, old Sorting Hat on top of their heads. He saw Harry visibly relax, but gradually grew tense again. Dudley reached over and squeezed his shoulder in comfort.

Hannah Abbott and Susan Bones went to Hufflepuff, then Terrance Boot and Amanda Brocklehurst to Ravenclaw, followed by first Gryffindor Lavender Brown and first Slytherin Millicent Bulstrode. The next new Ravenclaw was Michael Corner, then Stephen Cornfoot was sorted into Hufflepuff. Vincent Crabbe and Tracey Davis went into Slytherin. Then---.

“Dursley, Dudley!”

Dudley gave Harry a pat on the shoulder and went up to the stool, accepting the hat from Tracey Davis. He sat down, placed the hat on his head, then waited. But he didn’t have to wait for long.

“Oh, now this is _interesting_!”

The voice didn’t come from near him. It was speaking in his mind yet wasn’t his own voice.

“An adult! Yet a child… A time traveller! Yet---. Hmm. There’s something more here…”

Dudley was both startled and amazed. Could a hat be an Occulmens?

“Rest assured, young one. I don’t read and tell. Unless your intent is the harm, by which I can tell they aren’t. A bit self-serving with your Objective Number One, but kind and compassionate regarding Objective Number Two. Perhaps I will take a leaf out of your books and do the same for him. He does seem to have quite the journey ahead of him. Poor child...”

“I imagine you’ve looked into many minds,” Dudley murmured, deciding to stop the tangent moving further, “Have you met many with a similar situation as mine?”

“That, I cannot divulge.”

“So, there _are_ others.”

“Clever boy! Or should I say man? My, we are entering troubled times…”

“Do you have any advice?”

If the hat heard the question, which Dudley was certain it did, it chose not to answer.

“You possess kindness, bravery, cleverness and ambition – a trait from each house. You would do well in any house and be very successful in that. However, there can only be one house, and I know just the one that will help you on your journey towards Objective Number One… SLYTHERIN!”

The view of the Great Hall re-appeared as Dudley took off the hat. There was polite applause by some of the Slytherin body. He could see most of them, if not all, were either trying to figure him out or feinting disinterest.

He strolled over to the Slytherin table and sat next to Tracey Davis. Millicent Bulstrode and Vincent Crabbe were seated opposite them. Dudley gave a curt nod to them and whoever was nearest or met his eyes. While Crabbe and Davis continued to watch the sorting, Bulstrode stared straight at Dudley.

Dudley ignored her and watched the sorting with everyone else. But his mind was elsewhere.

Since receiving his Hogwarts letter, his focus was to return home as soon as possible. Protecting his cousin was close in second place. During the summer, while he had theorised that meddling too much and changing things could cause what he knows to the be the future to not exist, and despite knowing full well a war would occur in the future, he still managed to be blind sighted by the subject of Voldemort.

Voldemort was gone, dead, when Dudley entered the Wizarding World as an adult. He hadn’t had as strong of a fear of another war breaking out, or of an uprising in the wake of Voldemort’s demise.

The Sorting Hat reminded Dudley that here, in this universe and at this point in time, Voldemort is still alive.

They didn’t meet Hagrid until arriving at Hogsmeade station. Harry doesn’t have his snowy white owl.

What else has changed? What significant events have been affected?

Some part of him still couldn’t believe that this was all real, because why else would he need to put much thought into his situation, despite knowing what he knew.

It has been seventy-five days since he woke up back in the past. He had no other plan but to research and be better. With no clues, no leads and no way of getting home---.

He is a wizard.

He is at Hogwarts.

And he is in Slytherin.

_Is this a joke?_

Sue had once told him, during their discussions on the sorting process, that it was rare for a Muggleborn to be sorted into Slytherin. She knew of several Half-Blood wizards and witches who were sorted into Slytherin and kept quiet about their Muggle side as long as possible. She hadn’t known of any Muggleborn Slytherins in her time at Hogwarts. The person’s family name and lack of Pureblood connections would have stood out like a sore thumb.

Dursley. An unknown and very Muggle sounding name, would place Dudley at the bottom of the pecking order.

Unless he played his cards close to his chest and played them right.

“Li, Sue!”

Dudley blinked, befuddled, as he watched a young girl walk up to the stage after Sue’s name was called. The resemblance was uncanny. There was no denying it. It’s Sue. Of course, it’s her! She was in the same year as Harry! All this time he was dwelling on the future, getting back home, to Sue and Tilly. She was here all along!

But Sue…

She’s only eleven years old.

It was as though he was dosed with a bucket of ice water. First the Sorting Hat. Now Sue.

She isn’t Sue who he confided in, keep each other’s secrets, gone through ups and down.

She isn’t his wife, mother of their daughter, best friend, partner in mischief.

She isn’t even the Sue he’d first met fifteen years ago, when they were both in their twenties, at the International Mental Health Conference in Queensland, Australia.

This Sue doesn’t even know he exists.

His hopes of reunion dashed. He didn’t know what he was thinking. Seeing this Sue, eleven years old, sorted into Ravenclaw, made him miss home even more.

“Malfoy, Draco!”

Crabbe grunted in surprise. Goyle had nudged him awake.

“What?!” Crabbe grumbled.

“It’s Malfoy’s turn,” Goyle said.

“Shh!” Bulstrode hissed.

Watching the boy swagger with overconfidence, smirk plastered on his face, it was another Zacharias Smith. It also reminded Dudley of himself when he was younger, before the Dementor attack. Huge ego, entitled, and spoilt. Sometimes he wondered, if the Dementor hadn’t of kissed him, would he have become a terrible man-child?

“SLYTHERIN!”

The hat had bared touched his head. Malfoy, upon coming to the table, shoved Goyle over and sat between him and Crabbe. He glanced at the others then stopped at Dudley. He looked him up and down, nose slightly upturned, and eyes narrowed. Dudley raised an eyebrow.

“Nott, Theodore!”

Malfoy broke eye contact in favour of seeing Nott sorted into their house, who came down and sat next to Goyle.

Without needing to look at them any longer than necessary, Dudley knew they all knew each other already, and Dudley was the odd one out.

“Potter, Harry!”

It was instant, the school’s reaction to the name. People were craning their necks, rising from their seats. All eyes were on the stage for a chance to see his cousin, The-Boy-Who-Lived, for the first time.

“GRYFFINDOR!”

The commotion from the Gryffindors was wild. They were clapping, cheering and jumping about. Dudley heard someone snort, but Dudley didn’t care. The Gryffindors welcomed Harry with open arms, still clapping and cheering. Shaking his hand, patting him on the back. Harry was beaming, if not a little shy from all the attention.

Dudley had been worried, back at the train. There was fear in Harry’s expression when he saw Dudley with other people. Dudley had been worried about the amount of dependence Harry had on him when the first person he thought to seek about potentially fighting a troll was not his new friend Ron, but Dudley.

But after meeting Ron, and now seeing this display, Dudley found reassurance. Harry will be looked after in Gryffindor.

Harry looked over then. Dudley smiled. Harry smiled back.

A few more people were sorted. Then came Blaise Zabini.

“Slytherin of course,” Parkinson said, casually.

“Where else would he go?” Nott replied.

“SLYTHERIN!”

Polite clapping. Zabini sat next to Parkinson. With everyone sorted, the hat was taken away. From where he sat a the centre of the head table, Albus Dumbledore stood up. He welcomed the school to Hogwarts, then, he said, “Nitwit! Bludder! Oddment! Tweak!” before thanking them and sitting back down.

There were a few murmured remarks at the Slytherin table about Dumbledore, none of which were positive.

Suddenly, food appeared. Dudley, who hadn’t eaten since this morning, maintained composer. Only just. He helped himself to some mash, peas, bangers, and tucked in, unhurried. Everyone else around them were close to shovelling food into their mouths while also maintaining conversation.

Bulstrode, Davis, Greengrass and Parkinson were talking amongst themselves. Malfoy, Goyle, Nott and Blaise talked in another group. Crabbe, who sat directly opposite Dudley, didn’t say much. His primary focus was to eat as much as possible, it seemed.

The Bloody Baron, the Slytheirn house ghost, floated by and exchanged some words. After a while he looked at Dudley and Zabini, commenting they were a quiet bunch after realising neither of them participated, before floating off in apparent disinterest.

“So, how was your holidays, Draco?” Parkinson asked, breaking the circles.

“Fantastic, of course,” Malfoy replied with a self-satisfied smirk. “Father took me to watch the Quidditch League final. Watched it all from the VIP area obviously.”

Suddenly, it became a conversation between nine people. All were talking about Quidditch, their favourite team, how it went for them, disappointments and wins. Even Crabbe said a few words.

Just as sudden as the conversation grew, it stopped. All eyes were on Dudley.

“So. Dursley, was it? What’s your favourite?” Malfoy asked.

“Magpies,” Dudley replied, without missing a beat.

“ _Broom jumper_. Bet you weren’t a fan to start with,” Bulstrode challenged.

“You’ve caught me. Sports aren’t really my forte,” Dudley coolly. “On the other hand, I’m always up for a game of chess.”

“Are you now? Blaise here’s pretty good at chess,” Nott mentioned.

“Well, I’m better,” Malfoy contested.

Zabini deadpanned.

“Shove off, Malfoy. How many times have you played Blaise and you _lost_?” Nott replied.

“Can’t dispute that. I’ve seen it happen with my own two eyes,” Bulstrode said.

“Maybe you need another set of eyes!” Malfoy suggested hotly.

“She’s not wrong,” Goyle spoke up.

“Whose side are you on?” Malfoy glared at Goyle.

“How about a re-match, you and Zabini?” Parkinson suggested.

“Leave me out of it,” Zabini said, going back to his dinner.

Dudley, along with Davis and Greengrass, watched on in amusement. Crabbe looked back and forth with a frown and a fork of mash halfway to his mouth.

“First night at Hogwarts and already a commotion,” a girl said. “What’s going on here?”

They stopped, then looked up. Overhearing their conversation were two Slytherin prefects, Gemma Farley and Sebastian Lawrence. News of the commotion must have travelled down the table fast for them to have come up here. Or they were loud enough to draw attention.

After Parkinson volunteered and filled them in, the two prefects looked at each other.

“If you want to settle it officially, you can join the Chess Club,” Lawrence suggested.

“A piece of parchment for you to jolt your name will be pinned up in the Entrance Hall sometime this week,” Farley informed. “Signups for the other clubs will also be up by the end of this week, so make sure you’re not signing up for the wrong club.”

“Any questions? No? Splendid,” Lawrence settled. He came closer, looking over them with a threatening smile. “Now you First-ies better keep your voices down if you know what’s good for you.”

Lawrence turned on his heel and stalked off.

“He means if you misbehave, you will have points docked off,” Farley provided with a grin. “I’ll explain more later. Enjoy your meal!”

As soon as Farley was out of ear shot, Malfoy shot a glare at the general direction of the prefects.

“Who does he think he is? Does he know _who I am_? Wait until my father hears about this,” Malfoy hissed. He turned to the others. “What is his name?”

Those who bothered to reply merely shrugged. Dudley knew Sebastian Lawrence’s name from the list of Prefects earlier on the train, but he wanted nothing to do with Malfoy’s tantrum by adding fuel to his fire. If he were Malfoy’s father and he were here now, he would have sent Malfoy to sit in the time out corner.

Following dinner was dessert. Dudley fancied himself some lime flavoured jelly. He couldn’t remember the last time he had had jelly. He didn’t expect much in terms of wow factor. It was jelly.

Then, Dumbledore said some announcements and the school’s body sang the Hogwarts song, before all the students headed to their dormitories.

Before the first year Slytherins got up, Farley and Lawrence re-appeared, along with four older Slytherin prefects: Horatius Burkes, Claudius Rayknolls, Decima Warrington and Cecilia Wrentham. He had seen them among those who exited the prefect carriage. On a glance, they were okay people, including Lawrence who had been questioned on his unusually prickly behaviour by Ravenclaw Head Boy, Titus Eekins, on the way out of the carriage.

Following Farley and Lawrence, with the other Prefects acting as watchers (or protectors), Dudley and the first years went to their dormitories together. They entered a door to the side of the Entrance Hall, went down a set of stone steps and through a corridor. They slowed to a stop in front of a large expanse of bare stone wall, Farley was standing in one spot in particular.

“Felix Felicis.”

A door appeared which promptly opened, revealing a passage. Farley stepped through first, everyone followed. They didn’t travel far before a large room appeared. It was slightly dim, with green tinted lamps and green tone chairs. Black wood furnishing and dark leather upholstery. It felt grand yet cool.

Once all the first years gathered in the open centre of the room, Farley stood in front of them and gave a welcoming speech.

“Congratulations! I’m Prefect Gemma Farley and I’m delighted to welcome you to Slytherin House!” Farley cheerfully greeted.

She was smiling, shining with positivity, as she pointed out they could see the depths of Hogwarts lake through the windows. She dispelled myths and misconceptions regarding lineage and Dark wizards, how the other houses also have share of Dark Wizards and didn’t want to admit it.

Then, when Merlin came up that he was a Slytherin, it made Dudley almost want to fact check everything he’d learnt that hadn’t been debunked by Sue. For some reason, he had thought Merlin was a made-up Muggle character.

“Let’s talk about what we are, which is the coolest and edgiest house in this school!” Farley said with a grin. “We play to win, because we care about the honour and traditions of Slytherin. We also get respect from our fellow students. Yes, some of that respect might be tinged with fear, because of our Dark reputation, but you know what? It can be fun, having a reputation for walking on the wild side. Chuck out a few hints that you’ve got access to a whole library of curses and see whether anyone feels like nicking your pencil case.”

Was that what the Hat meant? Being in Slytherin, not only will he be networking among some members belonging to ambitious and powerful families, but he would potentially gain access to their extensive libraries, including taboo and darker topics.

“But we’re not bad people. We’re like our emblem, the snake: sleek, powerful, and frequently misunderstood. For instance, we Slytherins look after our own – which is more than you can say for Ravenclaw. Apart from being the biggest bunch of swots you ever met, Ravenclaws are famous for clambering over each other to get good marks, whereas we Slytherins are brothers. The corridors of Hogwarts can throw up surprises for the unwary, and you’ll be glad you’ve got the Serpents on your side as you move around the school. As far as we’re concerned, once you’ve become a snake, you’re one of ours – one of the elite.

“Because you know what Salazar Slytherin looked for in his chosen students? The seeds of greatness. You’ve been chosen by this house because you’ve got the potential to be great, in the true sense of the word. All right, you might see a couple of people hanging around the common room whom you might not think are destined for anything special. Well, keep that to yourself. If the Sorting Hat put them in here, there’s something great about them, and don’t you forget it.

“And talking of people who aren’t destined for greatness, I haven’t mentioned the Gryffindors. Now, a lot of people say that Slytherins and Gryffindors represent two sides of the same coin. Personally, I think Gryffindors are nothing more than wannabe Slytherins. Mind you, some people say that Salazar Slytherin and Godric Gryffindor prized the same kinds of students, so perhaps we are more similar than we like to think. But that doesn’t mean that we cosy up with Gryffindors. They like beating us only slightly less than we like beating them.”

Then she mentioned the Bloody Baron, she mentioned that the password changed every fortnight, so they needed to refer to the notice board, and to not give out the password or allow anyone into the common room who wasn’t Slytherin.

She also talked about the house points system, to avoid misbehaviour or they will lose some, and ways they could earn points to win the House Cup.

Dudley was impressed by Farley’s speech. She would make a great motivational speaker.

After being directed to their dormitories, girls through one corridor and the boys through the other, Dudley and the boys entered a circular room with six dark wooden framed four-poster beds with green silk hangings. The ceiling was stone with silver hanging lanterns, with four windows evenly spaced out, showing the gentle lapping of the lake above them. The walls were of stone, decorated with the Slytherin crests and medieval tapestries of people in the mist of action. Next to each bed was a study desk, a lamp, a chair, a chest of drawers and a bedside unit. Their trunks had arrived before them and were situated at the base of a bed.

Dudley found his trunk, easily the cheapest looking out of the rest. It was at the base of one of the two beds nearest to the door. On the other side of the door was Zabini. Beside him was Nott and beside Dudley was Crabbe. At the furthest end of the room, between Crabbe and Goyle was Malfoy.

Nobody argued about their spots. It was clear the arrangement was pre-organised. They all knew each other, and all had seemed confident they would be sorted into Slytherin. Dudley didn’t feel the need to say anything. His spot, he felt, benefitted him as he had no doubt the boys were not early risers, and it was an easy exit from the room.

Dudley changed into his pyjamas and got into bed, under the covers. He laid on this back, staring up at the ceiling. Having others in the room unsettled Dudley. Eventually the movement from the boys settled. But, even then, Dudley couldn't fall asleep.

There were many thoughts circling his mind. He was worried about many things all at once. He felt like he could be dealing with everything better, that he wasn't doing a good enough job, that he should be doing more. In the quiet, questions plagued him. Will he ever return home? How will he get home? What will greet him there? If he couldn't, will he ever know how he ended up here? Was there a reason he was here? How will his future unfold? What will happen to Harry? How will he deal with Voldemort? Can Dudley find ways to support himself? What if he was found out? 

Dudley was mentally exhausted and knew he wouldn't find the answers in the cycle of never resolving thoughts. He needed clarity. He needed to feel refreshed. He needed sleep. Dudley's thoughts took him back to Sue's meditation exercises. He breathed in deeply, and out deeply. He forced himself to let go, to deal with tomorrow, closing his mind, wrapping it in a cocoon. Finally he relaxed, allowing the sounds of water gently lapping above him carry him to sleep.


End file.
